MissIndependent
by Arabella
Summary: Blaise and Ginny fell for one another in their last years at Hogwarts, and their relationship was sabotaged by Draco Malfoy. 5yrs later, Voldemort's gone and now she's teaching at Hogwarts, and Blaise has just accepted a job there too. Ch.10 Is Now Up
1. Head Dork

Miss Independent  
  
By: Arabella  
  
Chapter One: Head Dork  
  
She sat upon the window ledge in the highest tower; the astronomy tower. Tears slipped down her cheeks in narrow streams, dropping into a puddle on her cloak. Her brother, her favourite one, Charlie, he was gone forever. He had been snooping around for information useful to the Order of the Phoenix, and had been caught by a Death Eater in the process. Needless to say, he was dead.  
  
She lifted her forlorn gaze to stare out into the vast sky as she thought about her brother. They'd buried him today. Of course the Ministry still claimed his death wasn't by the hand of a Death Eater, just that Charlie had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her mother, father, and brothers had all sobbed, along with others. Only she and Harry hadn't joined them. Harry didn't probably because he'd already seen many deaths in his short time. She on the other hand, merely chose not to express her sorrow publicly.  
  
So here she was now, pouring out her grief after finally escaping from the throng of people who always seemed to be around her, commiserating. The Weasley's would be staying the night, and would depart in the morning, while the children could take time off if they wished to mourn longer. Ginny longed to be busy again, to forget it all.  
  
The back of her neck prickled, and she had the sensation she was being watched. She'd barely spoken to anyone since they'd found out the terrible news, and certainly didn't want to start now. Sighing, she slipped from the ledge, back behind the safety of the castle, and turned to slowly make her way back to the common room.   
  
~*~  
  
Blaise had been roaming the school making sure no students were out of bed. When he'd caught sight of the shadow at the astronomy tower, he'd intended to order the student back to their common room immediately. However, as he stepped closer he saw the tiny figure of the youngest Weasley crying over her brother. The whole castle knew, and as Head Boy he had attended the funeral today with the rest of the staff and the Weasley family. He'd wondered then why she hadn't cried, but now he saw that she'd been saving her grief for private. He decided he'd leave her be. He should have turned to go, but couldn't seem to drag himself from the beautiful vision she presented him.  
  
Seated upon the ledge, though somewhat precariously, the full moon shone down on her, her pale skin even paler in the moonlight. She looked almost like a goddess, apart from the hair that clung against her paleness like fire. 'I'll just stay here till she gets down, make sure she's safe and all' he thought, lying to himself - stepping back into the shadows, as he kept his gaze fixed on her.  
  
Much to his disappointment, a few moments later she got down from her perch and patted the wall affectionately, as though saying goodbye to her brother for a last time, before retreating in the direction of her common room.  
  
He, however, remained resting in his spot for a long time, trying to hold onto his mental picture, as well as wondering what it'd be like to have someone care for him like that. His mother had died early on, and his father was away much of the time with Death Eater business. Whatever family they'd been - had died with his mother. He frowned at the thought of his father, had he been responsible for the death of Charlie Weasley, or had it been another Death Eater?  
  
Since Blaise's mother's death, Gabon Zabini had thrown himself completely into the dark arts and was now one of the most respected and feared Death Eaters, apart from the Malfoys. Urgh… Malfoy... Draco had been particularly rotten this year since Blaise had gotten the Head Boy position over him. He shook his head, and resumed walking through the halls once more. His feet seemed to instinctively lead him towards the direction of Gryffindor tower.  
  
His senses went on alert when he heard a low threatening voice up the next corridor. He paused around the corner, to try and appraise what was going on.  
  
Ginny had nearly reached the tower, when Malfoy had rudely stepped out in front of her, blocking her path.  
  
"Where do you think you're going, Weasley? Puttering around the castle in search of extra money, are you?" he sneered. Usually, his insults pissed her off, and they still did, but she didn't have the strength to fight him off tonight.  
  
"Not tonight, Draco... just let me return to my house," she replied quietly, rubbing her temples.  
  
His eyes seemed to be gauging her shrewdly. "You honestly don't know, do you?" He was surprised that she hadn't attacked him or something already. She frowned.  
  
"What don't I know, Malfoy? " her voice taking a slightly hardened edge, she glared up at him. He merely smirked at her.  
  
"You don't know that my father had the honour of killing your brother."  
  
Blaise groaned inwardly, hearing this. Trust Malfoy to brag about his father killing her brother. He heard a dull thud, and peaked around the corner, surprised to see Ginny on top of Draco, trying to get in a free hit at him wherever she could.  
  
Malfoy laughed, and grabbed her hands, flipping her over and pinning her down with his weight. "You just made a big mistake, Weasley, you attacked a school prefect."  
  
Ginny's face was red as she struggled against him, still trying to hurt him in any way possible.  
  
Malfoy chuckled at the sight, "I like a little fight in women..."  
  
At this, Ginny virtually growled, and spat in his face. "Go to hell, Malfoy." His complacent smirk was instantly gone, and he backhanded her with such force that she tasted blood. He wiped the spit from his face, "Big mistake, Weasley - you're going to pay for that." He slapped her once more, her cheek taking the brunt of the hit.  
  
She struggled to focus her glare at him again, whispering dangerously, "No Malfoy, you made the mistake, the Head Boy is right behind you."  
  
Blaise nearly jumped at his name. How had she known? True to form, he stepped out from behind the corner. Malfoy, to his surprise, just laughed.  
  
"You think he'll do you any good, Weasley? He's a Slytherin, God you're dense." Her gaze finally cleared enough to see the Slytherin symbol embroidered onto the Head Boy's robes, she dropped her head back to the ground with a thud and gave a frustrated whimper.  
  
"Actually, Malfoy.." he spat, "You can't do this."  
  
"What?!" his golden head snapped back to Blaise's, he was used to getting what he wanted. Blaise thought quickly, trying to cover himself.  
  
"You can't do that, I said. "  
  
"And why, pray tell?"  
  
"Because, I guess you're too horny to notice, but you're in the middle of a fucking hallway."  
  
Draco's eyes widened, as the realisation that Blaise was right, dawned on him. Taking advantage of his current state, Blaise jerked Ginny Weasley up by the shoulders. Malfoy started to protest, but he snapped back, "Do this elsewhere, next time, understand? I can turn a deaf ear, but I can't afford to get caught up in a scandal. You know how it would displease the Dark Lord to lose a Prefect, much less a Head Boy to mudblood replacements." His eyes narrowed slightly, but nodded, and stood to leave, but looked back at Ginny.  
  
"This isn't over, Weasel," he murmured, then flicking his gaze to Blaise, he asked accusingly, "What are you going to do with her?"  
  
Blaise rolled his eyes, inwardly grating his teeth at the annoying ferret, " Please, Malfoy, I don't share your taste in mudblood lovers, I do however, share your interest in winning the house cup. Runt here, was out of bed at night. She's going straight to McGonagall, now get out of here before teachers come."  
  
Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Draco turned and left quickly.  
  
Sighing, Blaise turned back around to Ginny, "You should be more careful where you roam and do your brooding.." She looked up at him, anger evident in her pale features.  
  
"Bugger off, head dork." He caught her arm before she got too far.  
  
"Not so fast runt." She whipped around, and shoved him away from her.  
  
"You can't be serious about actually taking me to McGonagall, can you?" she cried. "I mean, what's she going to say about these bruises? Ugh, we've an imbecile for Head Boy."  
  
He reacted quickly, shoving her into the wall, holding her there with his body. Then, to her surprise, he tilted her head back carefully, and traced his finger lightly over her black and blue cheek. She'd need to find a way to conceal them, or else Ron would go ape. Hermione would surely tell him if she went to her, speaking of which, Hermione was probably out snogging with Ron somewhere, she thought bitterly.  
  
"He hit you quite hard, didn't he? " She heard him murmur. She sized this guy up, she wasn't sure whether to be glad or furious with him. On one hand, he'd saved her from a worse encounter with Malfoy, on the other he'd done it to save his own skin, as well as Malfoy's. Deciding to go with furious, she pulled her head from his grasp, wincing in pain as she did so.  
  
"Yeah, you must be proud seeing your housemate hitting a girl half his size, huh?"  
  
His fingers slid through her hair, gripping the flaming locks as he pulled her head back up to see him again. "No," he growled tersely. "I was disgusted." He held her gaze a moment longer, and then stepped back from her, pulling his wand out. She prepared herself to be hexed, but she never was. Instead, she felt her lip heal, and the pressure on her cheek relieved.  
  
She was shocked, he'd healed her. "Why?"  
  
Such a simple question, but such a complex answer that he didn't feel like answering to himself, much less her. He slipped back into his cool Slytherin persona, and smirked down at the red head. "Couldn't have you go whining to a teacher, the mudblood, or Potter, could I?"  
  
She rolled her eyes, and moved yet again towards Gryffindor tower. " Right, later, head dork..."  
  
"It's Zabini." He called after her.  
  
"Related to Houdini, are you? " She replied not the least bit phased, and was surprised when she heard a rumble of laughter from him. Shaking her head, she started to round the corner, when she heard him call out to her yet again.  
  
"Remember, you owe me one now, runt." 


	2. Lessons in Payback

Chapter Two: Lessons in Payback  
  
  
  
He watched the Weasley girl across the Great Hall, discreetly. Ever since that night a month or so ago, he'd begun observing her. Before Charlie Weasley's death, she'd been a bright and vivacious girl, whom all delighted to be around. Since then, the light from her life seemed to have slowly waned, along with her health. He noted that she barely ate any food, and while she'd always been slender, she had a downright skeletal appearance about her now.  
  
He found out that she was a good student; she excelled in potions (much to Snape's dismay) and astronomy. Instead of suffering, her grades in every single class had risen since her brother's death. It irked him vaguely to see everyone comforting her brother Ron, the mudblood, and that fool Potter, while they left Ginny alone. Couldn't they see that she needed a friend now, more desperately than ever?  
  
While her old 'friends' seemed to want to help, they were at a loss as to how they could help her. He had manufactured an excuse to Malfoy about why she'd not received punishment and he'd taken it seemingly well, though Blaise could almost hear the wheels turning in his ferrety mind. He'd need to watch out for this littlest Weasley. Malfoy was biding his time before he got a hold of her again, and after all, he was the Head Boy, wasn't he? It was his duty to look after the welfare of students.  
  
Of course, he needed to keep it low key or there would be severe repercussions. Sighing he stood up and made his way out of the Great Hall, with a nod to Malfoy. Once outside the castle, he leaned against the wall, the shadows hiding him from view.  
  
He only had to wait a few moments before a small figure shot out from the doors and ran out onto the grounds. A smile twitched at his lips as he watched her. He understood the need to escape and breathing in the crisp air of early winter was quite rejuvenating. Leaving the shadows, he trailed soundlessly behind her as she made her way to the Quidditch pitch.  
  
~*~  
  
Every night for the last two weeks Ginny had been coming out here and sneaking into the broom shed to borrow Harry's Firebolt to fly around the pitch as a way of relaxation. It wasn't that she thought Harry would mind if she borrowed his broom, she just wanted to keep this form of relaxation close to heart. She mounted the broom easily, and kicked off, and zoomed around the pitch quickly. She was swerving in and out when she noticed a dark figure in the stands watching her. Malfoy, she thought angrily. She jerked the broom around mid lap, and zoomed toward the Slytherin stands. He was shocked when she touched down in the stands, she definitely had spunk.  
  
"Listen here Malfoy, if you think you can intimidate me, you're wrong. I don't give a damn about you, except that you and your family end up in Azkaban along with all the other Death Eaters responsible for Charlie's death. And for Gods' sake, take that bloody hood down!"  
  
Her jaw dropped when she saw Blaise Zabini pull the hood down, smirking at her. " Good spiel, runt."  
  
"Fuck you, Zabini!" she spat to cover her embarrassment and suddenly remembering her anger.  
  
The corners of his mouth twitched upwards once more as he watched her, hands on hips practically breathing fire. "Tsk, tsk, runt, I'm Head B- " A long red scratch on the side of her arm suddenly caught his eye. He grabbed her arm roughly, and studied the mark. "How did this happen?" he demanded. After watching her like a hawk for the past month, he knew she hadn't been in any fights.  
  
She seemed surprised at the question, but quickly regained her composure and shrugged her shoulders insolently. "I fell," she replied lamely. She didn't owe him anything. Who the hell did he think he was?  
  
"On what, a the side of a knife?" He growled.  
  
"Leave me alone, Zabini!" She jerked her arm away, mounted the broom and took off into the sky once more, leaving him glowering at her from the stands.  
  
He had half a mind to grab his own broom and drag her off the pitch by her hair, but she was on Potter's Firebolt, and he knew he'd never catch her. 'Fine' he thought, 'if she wanted to act stupid and get herself hurt, so be it'. With one last scowl at the red blur streaking back and forth on the pitch, he trudged back to the castle.  
  
~*~  
  
Several hours later, Ginny had replaced Harry's broom in the shed and was racing back through the hallways trying to make curfew. A few feet from Gryffindor she thought she heard something. Stopping in her tracks, she pivoted, looking back into the dark hallway she'd just left.  
  
"Hello?" she called, and yelped as two hands grabbed her from behind, and a hand slid over her mouth. She squirming furiously against the body holding her prisoner, but stopped the instant she heard another voice.  
  
"Damn! Guess she didn't take the bait," grunted Crabbe, stepping from the darkened hallway with Draco Malfoy and Gregory Goyle.  
  
"Mhm," Draco murmured, shooting suspicious glances around the corridor, while Goyle, of course, only grunted his agreement by way of reply.  
  
A few moments later after they were gone, the strong arms holding her released her abruptly and stepped away. She looked up astonished, at Blaise Zabini. Last time could be chalked up as a mistake or something else, but this was the second time he'd 'saved' her. Something was up.   
  
"Th-thanks, Zabini," she muttered, looking at him for the first time. Her eyes ran up his tall form, and lingered over his tanned skin, wondering how on earth he could keep such a tan with so much studying.  
  
Speaking of studying, she jerked her gaze away from his piercing blue eyes and let her eyes settle on his wavy black hair. She decided that he looked frighteningly like the sixteen year old Tom Riddle. She wondered vaguely if his hair was as coarse as Tom's had been, for there were things that went on in the Chamber of Secrets that no one but Professor Dumbledore knew of.  
  
She shook her head once to clear her thoughts, and realised that he was still staring at her. Unsure of how to decipher the emotions filtering through his gaze, Ginny swept past him cautiously and went to stand in front of the Fat Lady. "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" she murmured, and the door swung open. Hazarding one last glance in his direction, she saw that Blaise had turned to watch her, a brow raised in amusement at what the password had been. Mildly unnerved at the stare, she moved quickly through the doorway, hearing only "Be careful, little Weasley..." before it closed with a click behind her.  
  
'What could Blaise Zabini want from her?' Sighing, she hazarded a glance around the common room, noting that, as always, the trio was huddled together in deep conversation. As if sensing her watching them, Harry looked up and smiled, waving to her. She nodded a bit curtly and headed up to her dormitory. Flopping noisily onto her four-poster, she stared blankly up at the canopy of her bed. After a few moments, she pulled her bag out and began working on an essay for Snape.  
  
Engrossed in her work, she didn't bother looking up when the door to the sixth year girls dormitory opened. Therefore, when Harry called her name softly, she nearly jumped a foot. "Harry! What are you doing in here..?" He smiled, and sat on the foot of her bed.  
  
"Do I have to have a reason, Gin? You're my friend as much as Ron, and you've been… quiet lately."  
  
"I'm still in shock, Harry," she replied a little wryly, offering a small smile.  
  
He looked up at her, noticing the tears gathering in her eyes and pulled her into a strong hug.  
  
"I m-miss him," she choked out, starting to sob.  
  
"Shh..." he whispered against her forehead. "We all do. I promise you Ginny, Voldemort will pay… and so will his Death Eaters." She looked up at this.  
  
"You don't have to Harry, really."  
  
"I know I don't," he interrupted, "but I want to. That bastard's taken enough people I care for, and now he's hurting you and Ron the same way. It's got to end somehow, and I intend to finish it."  
  
She looked into his determined eyes warily, but nodded.  
  
"Just be careful Harry. I don't want to lose any more family." His face softened, and he smiled pressing a kiss to her forehead.  
  
"I will, love. Now... what's this potions stuff about?" he asked eyeing her books. The remainder of the night passed fairly quickly, and with Harry's help she finally finished her potions essay, before falling into bed exhausted.  
  
~*~  
  
After a few weeks, and several talks with Harry, Ginny's life finally seemed to return to what could almost be called normal, though she knew she'd never truly get over Charlie's death. She knew she couldn't continue to brood forever. She even decided she'd try out for the Quidditch team in early spring, hoping to retain the coveted Keeper's position that would be left behind next year by Ron.  
  
Harry and Ron were working with her to help train her as much as possible before they left, and she found it was good to relieve some of her tensions and get her mind off of annoying things. One night, coming back from the pitch the three were talking animatedly about a new move Ginny had learned.   
  
"You're getting pretty good, Gin-bug, if I do say so myself. " Ron commented.  
  
"Thanks, Weasley King, " Ginny snorted, reminding Ron of the Slytherin cheer from his fifth year.  
  
"Hah, good bur-oww!" Harry laughed, as Ron shoved his elbow into Harry's ribs, flushing. A noise from the corner drew their attention. Ginny saw Blaise hunched over coming around the corner.  
  
"What was that?" Harry asked curiously, drawing his wand.  
  
"I dunno.." Ginny said, quickly averting their attention, though unsure why she was doing so. "Uh, listen you two, I need to get a book from the library for Herbology tomorrow, I'll see you later alright?"  
  
"Want us to come with you?"  
  
"No, that's ok. I'm a big girl Ron Weasley."  
  
"Sure are.." Harry smirked, not noticing the glare he received from Ron. Ginny too was a bit taken back at the flirtation in his voice. Hadn't she just referred to him as a family member? Ron's eyes narrowed at the two, and he grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him further up the stairs to Gryffindor tower.  
  
"She's right, Potter. Come on, you and I are going to have a talk."  
  
She couldn't help but laugh, hearing Harry's audible gulp. She turned around, a smile still on her face as she looked for Blaise. 'Well, he hadn't looked well, and he couldn't have gotten far', she mused. She took a look around the entry hall. No sign of him. Brow furrowed, she headed down a drafty corridor.  
  
Was this the way to the Slytherin common room? No, he was Head Boy. Hermione had her own quarters, he would too. A hand shot out, gripping her wrist tightly, and slung her none to gently against the stone wall. She knew very well who it was the moment his hand touched her skin. His touch was different to anyone else's, and her body reacted differently to it. So she didn't fight immediately, though she started to protest at the way he always got her attention, when she was swiftly silenced by the sight that greeted her.  
  
His face was badly bruised and his right eye was already swollen shut. Considering his hunch she realised he had probably taken hits to the stomach and sides. Swallowing a gasp, she looked at him in disbelief. "Wh... what happened?"  
  
He opened his mouth, and she was shocked at the angry tint to his cerulean eyes, and then shut it again, as if thinking it better not to say what he wanted.  
  
"Leave me alone, Weasley," he stated coldly, and brushed past her as if she was a pest. She was ready to give up when she heard a groan and turned to see him collapse. Running to his side, she knelt beside him. "Blaise… where's the Head Boy's room, and what's the password?" she hissed, knowing he'd soon be unconscious.  
  
"Behind Salazar Stat... and...virgin."  
  
Resisting the urge to laugh at the inane password, she withdrew her wand and pointed it at him. "Mobilicorpus!" Quietly, she directed his floating body to the statue of Salazar Slytherin and gave the password. She nearly lost her concentration and dropped him when she came through the narrow passageway and saw the suite. Hermione's was nice… but this was downright... elegant. The room had beautiful oak walls and a comfy sitting area, with a highly polished cherry oak desk in one corner, piled high with a stack of books.  
  
She vaguely imagined Dumbledore at home in a place like this. In his room there was an antique bureau with bowl on top filled with silvery stuff, and his bed was a magnificent king sized bed that was fit for a king. Of course, it was all done in Slytherin colours. Suddenly remembering her charge, she floated him to his bed and then removed the spell. After looking about, she discovered the bathroom, and brought out a bowl of warm water and a few wash cloths, as well as a first aid kit.  
  
Frowning, she dipped a washcloth in warm water and placed it against his cheek, and forehead. No… this didn't seem the right thing to do. Ah… ice! She'd forgotten that ice helped swelling. Conjuring some, she wrapped it in one of the washcloths and placed it gently over his eye. With her free hand, she reached down and started to unbutton his robes and tug at his tie, loosening it. His hand came up and circled her wrist, holding it to his chest. She looked up and realised that, even badly beaten, he was still smirking that trademark Slytherin smirk that inevitably set her blood on boil.  
  
"Ah," he mused, "sorry Weasley, I prefer women, not little girls." Surprising him, she looked disappointed and pouted.  
  
"Oh?" she questioned softly, sliding her hand from his and down to his thigh. His eyes flickered uncertainly as he watched her and then he yelped as she pinched his thigh. Smirking, she went back to unbuttoning his shirt, leaving him to hold the ice to his eye.  
  
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Zabini. I'm just tending to your wounds, and then I'm leaving."  
  
He merely watched her curiously as she worked, making her fumble some of the buttons. "Just remember, payback's a bitch, runt.."  
  
"You certainly don't look capable of being any sort of threat, Zabini," she scoffed, pushing his robes and tie aside.  
  
"Yeah, well…" he trailed off, before looking away. Hesitating only a moment she removed his under shirt and gasped. His stomach and ribs were badly bruised and it appeared like he'd nearly cracked a rib. No wonder he'd almost passed out. She set to work quickly, mending him the best she could, as well as magically reducing some of his bruised. She frowned at what looked like a burn on his upper right arm, though it appeared fairly new and was still hard to decipher.  
  
Noticing where her gaze had lingered, he lowered his arm so that the burn mark was facing away. "Done yet?" he asked. "I'm freezing."  
  
Sighing wearily she nodded. "K then, throw me a white shirt from the top drawer of the bureau, please," he said cordially.  
  
Wondering when she'd become Blaise Zabini's maid, she pulled the said shirt from the drawer and tossed it to him, and then took the bowl of water back to the bathroom. Returning, she found him in a loose pair of trousers that still showed his physique and the loose white shirt she'd thrown at him.  
  
She'd always wondered why men thought they had to wear designer label or sporty attire to draw women's attention. The sexiest outfit, to her at least, was a pair of pants and white shirt - strangely enough exactly what Zabini's was wearing. Ignoring that thought, she yawned and stretched her arms and then tilted her head around, eliciting a pop from her neck.  
  
Straightening up she saw Blaise staring at her with a scary intensity. She shot him an odd look and sat down at the edge of the bed. Tired as she was, she didn't want to leave just yet. He scared her, made her tummy flutter, but it was a good scare and the fluttering feeling was almost addictive. He was still staring at her. 'Damn brat! " she thought, 'Doesn't he ever speak?'  
  
"So," she started, "are you going to tell me what happened?"  
  
His eyes clouded over with something like disgust and he stared at the wall over her head. When he spoke his voice was calm, belying the hatred in his eyes. "If you wish.."  
  
"I do.." His eyes hooked hers sharply, and then he looked down, muttering a sigh.  
  
"Fine… here t'is. I was coming back from the library, and I was jumped by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Seems it got out about me helping you, and they wanted to..." he paused, grappling with what words to use. "remind me of where my bloody loyalties lie. "  
  
"Three on one!" she yelled. "How fair is that?!"  
  
"They're not Gryffindors, Gi-Weasley. They're Slytherin. Come on, you know what we're capable of."  
  
She stared at him, noticing the slip where he'd almost used her name. Nodding finally she stood, and then winced, feeling him grasping her wrist.  
  
"Blast it, Blaise.." she frowned, rubbing her wrist, remembering when he'd grabbed it earlier, "Do you always have to hurt me to get my attention?"  
  
He seemed taken aback at her terminology, and he supposed it could be used in more ways than one. He had used excessive force earlier, and the time before. But tonight he'd already been beaten up, and there she had stood happily flirting away with that bloody Potter. "I..." He bit back an apology, he couldn't afford to apologise, he had a rep. Instead, he offered what he could. "It won't happen again."  
  
A brow raised she nodded. "See that it doesn't," she replied crisply, starting to turn away.  
  
"Wait," he asked, his hand tightening on her wrist marginally, stopping her from pulling free, though if she wanted to leave badly enough she could. "You're tired, rest here tonight." She looked at him dubiously, and he hurried on before she could argue. "I'm not going to try anything, if that's what you're worried about. Look at me. Like you said, I'm not in the best shape. Plus I'll need someone to re-bandage my wounds in the morning."  
  
He wondered in the back of his mind just why he, Blaise Zabini, was trying to get a Gryffindor, and a Weasley at that, to stay with him instead of sending her away.  
  
She too wondered the same thing, though she was wondering mainly why the offer sounded so good. Too tired to fight, she inclined her head forth and made toward the next room. "Fine then, Zabini.."  
  
"Wait!" he called again.  
  
"What?" she snapped, her patience had just about run out and his interruptions were getting annoying.  
  
He seemed to take umbrage at her tone and glared at her icily. "I may be a Slytherin, but I have some honour. You're not sleeping on a sodding couch, take the bed." At this he tried to get up, but fell back. "Damn woman, how tightly did you tie those bandages."  
  
Smirking she replied, "Tight enough obviously. And don't even think about messing up those bandages by getting outta bed. I'll be fine on the couch."  
  
"No..." he growled angrily. Damn this girl, wait.. woman or girl? At this point his mind was hopelessly confused with the two. While she looked like a little girl, her actions were very womanly. He wouldn't be just some patient to this little Gryffindor, he'd take the upper hand back. He was a Slytherin, and superior to the mop of red curls standing annoyed in front of him. "Take the bed."  
  
"You're in it… and don't appear to be getting out of it so, again… no."  
  
"Then it looks as if we'll have to share, doesn't it?" he snapped back. She frowned suddenly.  
  
"This wasn't a good idea. I'll just go back to Gryffindor, I've nothing to wear here anyway."  
  
"By God you're stubborn. You're not walking in this corridor, right by Slytherin by the way, at midnight by yourself! I'd walk you back to Gryffindor if I could, but as you've mummified me, it doesn't appear I'll be able to do it. So pull on one of my old t-shirts, turn off the light, and get your ass in this bed, Ginny Weasley!" he exploded into the bedroom.  
  
She stared at him unblinkingly, stunned at his outburst. She didn't know whether to storm out angrily, or to laugh. She decided on the latter and was soon wiping her eyes with happy tears.  
  
"What's so funny, Weasley?" He demanded, crossing his arms.  
  
"You are," she choked out between laughs, "you're acting like a two year old."  
  
He realised she was right, and his face softened. "Hey…so are you staying?" he asked a bit sheepishly.  
  
Nodding, she swept over to his bureau and rifled through his clothing until she found a shirt that would cover her fairly well. Blaise sighed with relief when she stepped into the bathroom to change. He'd been nervous that she would change her mind and leave, and really… there would be nothing he could do to stop her. He wouldn't really blame her either after that outburst. Damn. He prided himself on being in perfect control of his emotions.  
  
Unlike Malfoy, who was proud to be able to appear detached at all times, Blaise observed and took note of what people liked. Therefore, he was able to play all fields. Hufflepuff saw him as a quiet but affable guy. Ravenclaw as the brilliant Head Boy. Gryffindor as the frightening but intriguing Slytherin. And Slytherins saw as him mysterious and dangerous. If he thought he was nervous, it was nothing to Ginny's nervousness.  
  
The shirt came down just past her thighs, but would ride up in the night she feared. Tugging at the ends of it subconsciously, she opened the door and stepped out. She shot him a tentative glance.   
  
"Want my approval, Weasley?" he asked negligently, studying every bit of her. Her hair was finally released from the pony tail she always kept it in, and the fiery hair flowed beguilingly down her back. It was a good thing she'd wrapped his ribs so tight, or he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from kissing the pretty blush tinting her freckled cheeks away. He tore his eyes away from the sight before him with great will power.  
  
She was looking up at him questioningly. He remembered she'd immediately retorted a "No" to his inquiry.   
  
"Too bad Weasley, you have it anyway.."  
  
Unnerved, she flipped the lights off and crawled into the side of the bed opposite the one he was occupying. After a few tense moments, she could still feel the heat of his eyes on her and turned over on her side, drawing her knees to her side. It wouldn't matter if the shirt rode up, there was plenty of room between them, and if his hands happened to wander over, there'd be hell to pay. As if reading her mind, she sensed him moving behind her and turned over, amazed to find herself staring into his eyes. How had he gotten so close to her without her sensing it earlier? 'Well Duh', her mind replied, 'You were lost in la-la land.' She bowed her head, ducking her eyes away from his.  
  
"Blaise… I'm sorry I was such a brat that day on the pitch, I was upset."  
  
He lifted her chin with one of his slender fingers and smiled. "I'll forgive you if you say my name again." He enjoyed hearing it spoken kindly instead of angrily. Christ! Who was he kidding, he just liked watching her lips form his name. Her mouth quirked upwards in a lopsided smile.  
  
"Blaise…"  
  
Her tone was that of a lover, whispering his name quietly, almost seductively. He knew she didn't intend it that way, but it affected him just the same. He needed to get control of himself before this went farther. He needed to teach this know-it-all Gryffindor he was in charge. Then she did something unexpected - for both of them.  
  
She reached an almost trembling hand up, and slid it through the ebony tangles of his hair, and she smiled a genuine smile at him. His hair was nothing like Riddle's, which was coarse and stringy. Blaise's, her mind delighted in saying his name, was fine and thick. Without warning he ducked his head and kissed the base of her neck, the larynx. She gasped as she felt his lips brushing over the hollow of her throat. Slowly he kissed up the side of her neck and down her jaw line, eliciting a contented sigh from her. As he was about to kiss her, he paused, his lips hovered centimetres over hers.  
  
'Quit torturing yourself, go on!' his mind screamed, but he knew if he did, he'd be lost. She whimpered slightly, and before he made the mistake of kissing her, he slid back to the other side of the bed. He'd done it. He'd taken control… again. Great, wasn't it?  
  
"Like I said earlier," he spoke gruffly a few moments later, "pay back's a bitch, runt." Ignoring the pain in his ribs, he turned on his side away from her, wondering who the 'payback' had effected the most. It was going to be a long night! 


	3. Nightmares

Chapter Three: Nightmares  
  
Some time during the night, Blaise awoke to a muffled voice, as well as something hard hitting him in the back.  
  
"What the…?" he trailed off, turning over to see what was going on. He faintly noted that the pain in his body was now mostly gone, except for a twinge here and there. The current pain was coming from his violent bed mate.  
  
Weasley was now tossing and turning, swinging balled up hands in front of her, as if trying to hit someone, and occasionally a stray elbow struck him in the back. He rolled his eyes, and twisted over to his other side, and stared at the thrashing girl. He shook her a little, and then jerked his hand back. She only tossed more in response to his prodding. He was about to shake her awake, when he caught a few of her words.  
  
"No Tom, please… you said you were my friend." His brow arched at the tear slipping down her cheek, and brushed it away gently with his finger.  
  
"I said stop it Tom! No!" With that she opened her mouth to scream, but Blaise was quick to cover it with his hand. He rolled over, a leg on either side of her, and shook her awake with his free hand.  
  
"Weasley! Snap out of it!" He saw her eyes open, and then widen when she realised the position they were in. She started to struggle underneath him, glaring daggers at him. He smirked.  
  
"As much as you want me, runt, I'm sorry - I don't date good little girls." He rolled off of her, and was immediately pelted with a pillow.  
  
"Urgh! You pervert!" she cried, still hitting him with the pillow.  
  
"Blimey woman!" he said, in between dodging her pillow attacks. "You're as violent awake as you are asleep!" At this, she finally stopped, and looked at him blankly.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
His eyes rolled back and he sighed impatiently. "Evidently, Weasley," he sneered, "you were having a bad dream… and decided to take it out on me, both asleep and awake. Who's Tom by the way?"  
  
She blinked a few times, trying to come up with an answer. "Uh...nobody," she finally stated.  
  
"Oh? Right...that's why you were yelling for him to stop doing whatever it was he was doing to annoy you, because he was a nobody," he mocked unashamedly, and she narrowed her eyes.  
  
"Bugger off, Zabini."  
  
"Sorry, love, my room. Now who's this Tom fellow? A Hufflepuff perhaps, Ravenclaw maybe?"  
  
"Leave it be, it doesn't concern you," she retorted.  
  
'Oh but it did,' he thought. 'Who could this person be? Whoever it was sure as hell played an important part in her life, if she was dreaming about him. He felt a touch of ridiculous jealousy at this.  
  
"Who is it runt?" he growled silkily, rolling her beneath him again.  
  
She glared up at him furiously, nostrils flaming. "You're in Slytherin, you were probably bloody in on it." she spoke abnormally calm, her arms shaking, as if she was barely in control of her feelings.  
  
He wasn't Head Boy for no reason. Tom.. .a Slytherin. His mind ran through all the current Slytherins, no Toms among them. Then he fell back to the next category, to try and deduce who this mystery fellow was. What had happened to her? As best he could tell, since her run in with the Chamber of Secrets, Charlie Weasley's death was the only major thing that had happened to her.  
  
He froze, the Chamber of Secrets! Tom Riddle! Malfoy, always the bragger, had boasted about how his precious 'father' had slipped Lord Voldemort's old diary into the littlest Weasley's cauldron. Everyone at school thought that Riddle had just brainwashed her, and that was the extent of the damage.  
  
Now, Blaise realised, that definitely wasn't all that had happened to her down in the Chamber. He stared at her in disbelief, so sweet, so innocent. That monster had done something to Ginny, and she still wasn't recovered, despite what she told everyone else.   
  
"Runt… why didn't you tell me?" he asked, thoroughly unaware that he was asking it aloud, as he cupped her face in his hands, and stroked her delicate cheek bone, before pulling her into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, Gin." He breathed into her hair. She jerked back away from him, not because she didn't like the touch or crave more of it, but because he'd shocked her.  
  
"What did you call me?" she asked incredulously, staring up at him.  
  
"Um… uh..." he stumbled, losing his train of thought in the cinnamon coloured gaze of Ginny Weasley. All of a sudden, he snapped out of his trance and was once again one of Slytherin's baddest. "I didn't call you anything, Weasley." He spoke drolly, as if bored of the topic.  
  
She stared at him a bit confused. He'd been hugging her one moment, and bored with her the next, what the hell was going on here? "Look Zabini, I don't like being jerked around.." she groused, glaring up at him.  
  
"Oh?" he taunted innocently, he held her gaze a moment longer and then rolled off of her again, and shoved her towards the door. "Then leave, Weasley." he stated rudely, standing up from the bed and to her disappointment pulled on a shirt to cover his muscular back. When he turned around she was sitting there numbly, staring at him. "Must I remind you that I don't get involved with good little girls?" He asked, tskingly. In a flash she was on her feet and starting towards him.  
  
"I'm more of a woman than those whores you spend all your time with, Zabini! So quit making cracks about me!"  
  
"Oh are you now?" he spoke softly.  
  
"Yeah, I am," she said, hands on her hips.  
  
"Prove it then."  
  
For the first time that morning, she looked taken aback. She'd fallen for his trap! How could she have allowed herself to, she wondered.  
  
"Well..?" he prompted, raising an eyebrow. Not about to lose face to him, Slytherin or not, Zabini or not, she took a step closer, grasping his cheeks in her hands, and slowly drew him down. As she lowered his lips to her trembling ones, she had a flash of Tom and the Chamber of Secrets, and hastily moved away. Biting her lip to control it's trembling, she stumbled back, and ran from the room still merely clothed in his night shirt.  
  
~*~  
  
Still running through the halls, she realised all she was wearing was Bla… Zabini's shirt. With a groan, she halted and pulled her wand out to perform a quick spell to transfigure the shirt into something more appropriate. Her head jerked up as she heard the sound of voices around the corner.  
  
"She probably just fell asleep in the library, Ron, calm down." came Hermione's voice.  
  
"Yeah, listen to Hermione, Ron," seconded Harry.  
  
"Oh god.." she murmured, looking around wildly for a hiding spot, transfiguration spell forgotten.  
  
"Looking for a hiding spot Weasley?" A voice whispered into her ear, causing chills to spread down her spine, she spun around looking for him.  
  
"Help me Zabini,." she pleaded urgently as the trio drew nearer.  
  
She heard a soft chuckle. "Of course, Weasley. Just finished what you started back there."  
  
She looked up at him as he finally revealed himself, and feigned confusion.  
  
"Did you hear something Ron?" Harry asked quietly. Ginny gazed at him pleadingly.  
  
"Please Blaise, they can't find me like this."  
  
'Damn Weasel, it was hard not to help her when she looked at him like that and asked so nicely', but nevertheless he said, "Finish what you started Weasley."  
  
"Damn you, Zabini," she barely grated out, before stretching up and pressing her lips to his lightly, intending only to give him a peck on the lips. To her pleasure (and displeasure) he wrapped his arms around her tightly before she could move, and pulled her into a hidden room, the Head Boy's bathroom. Once she sensed they were in another room and away from the trio, she tried to pull away, but he wasn't ready for that yet, and held onto her. He nibbled lightly at her lips, tickling the upper lip with his tongue.  
  
She gasped in surprise and her lips parted, much to his delight. He slowly introduced his tongue to her mouth, revelling in her sweet taste. Admirably controlling his motions, he pulled back and was more than a little surprised when she made a small sound of disapproval. He led her to one of the plush benches dotting the room, while he sat down on the edge of the oversized bathtub.  
  
Regaining her senses, she raised her little chin proudly, "Thanks for helping me, Zabini."  
  
Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's Blaise, in private, Weasley."  
  
She shrugged nonchalantly, and started to leave, faltering when she couldn't find the door.  
  
"It's charmed not to show the door to anyone but the Head Boy. Cuts back on intruders," he said from close behind her.  
  
"Oh," she stammered, much to her horror. He was only a Slytherin! Why on earth should she be stammering? "Well, show me the door, Zabini."  
  
"I don't think I will," he stated softly and flopped into the tub, lounging lazily.  
  
Mustering up as much courage as was possible for the little Gryffindor, she stalked over to him. "And if I scream..?"  
  
"Go ahead, this room has a sound charm upon it as well, Dumbledore must know what kind of activities go on in here."  
  
Scowling, she glared down at him. "You're bloody impossible, you know that?" Smirking proudly, he nodded.  
  
"That's what they say."  
  
With a frustrated sigh, she sat on the edge of the tub for a moment, before fixing him with a thoughtful gaze. She had an idea.  
  
"Know what, Zabini?" she asked, trailing a hand up the inside of his leg.  
  
"What?" He asked slightly unsteady, wondering what the wench was up to.  
  
"If you can't beat them, join them." She bowed her head carefully, and kissed down the side of his neck, her hands now resting up on his shoulders. Unsure of her sudden change of heart he remained wary, trying his best not to fall into the trap of this viper. She continued teasing him and kissing all around his lips. He was about to take measures into his own hands when suddenly the taps in the tub turned on, blasting cold water over his fully clothed body. Startled, he glared at Ginny. She was laughing so hard she was shaking.  
  
"You think it's so funny, Weasley? Why don't you join me?" Before she could react, he jerked her in the now partially filled bathtub with him. Yelping, she tried to pull away from him to no use.   
  
"Prat! LET ME GO!" Outside the bathroom they heard people stopping.  
  
"I know I heard someone, Harry!" That shut them both up, Blaise looked at Ginny, she was adorable with her hair partially wet and lips pouting. Ginny too was noticing how his damp hair clung boyishly to his face. She ran a curious hand down his chest.  
  
"Do I get the same liberties with you?" He asked softly, a hand rising to hold her hip bone, lightly rubbing it. She dropped her hand and looked away ashamed. Frowning, he turned her back to face him.  
  
"Didn't mean for you to stop, runt." His hand moved up, barely brushing her stomach, and stopped at her cheek, delicately sliding his thumb over her lips and cheeks. Unable to look away, she merely stared back into his eyes. Imperceptibly, their faces moved closer and closer, and just before their lips could touch, she whispered his name, "Blaise.." Smiling, he pressed his lips to hers, in a gentle kiss.  
  
His mind was reeling from just the simple touch of lips when she pulled away from him and stepped out of the tub. Before he could protest, she quickly dried herself with a spell and left.  
  
She had known about the exit all the time, he realised. How? And why had she stayed? He stayed there a while, wondering what he'd gotten himself in before finally moving. 


	4. Could This Day Get Any Worse?

Chapter Four: Could This Day Get Any Worse?  
  
Harry frowned as he looked for Ginny. He'd searched almost the entire library. Ron and Hermione were scouring the halls for her.  
  
"Lose your pet, Potter?" Malfoy drawled. Harry turned around to find him blocking his path.  
  
"Sod off, Malferret," he spat.  
  
"Well, if you want to lose the mudblood lover to a Slytherin, be my guest, Perfect-Potter." Harry's eyes narrowed a fraction, just like Malfoy expected.  
  
"Explain."  
  
"Oh did I hit a nerve, Potter?"  
  
"Explain, or get out of my way, Malfoy."  
  
"Well, if you want it that way, Boy-Who-Should've-Died, fine. Your little weasel was shacked up with Blaise Zabini last night." Harry blinked.  
  
"Right, Malfoy, keep your delusions to yourself next time." He shook his head, wondering why he'd listened to him in the first place.  
  
"Well, oh smart one, why isn't she in here? Or in your tower?"  
  
"How do you kn-"  
  
"Please, you've never been exactly stealthy in your searches, you know."  
  
"Ok... well, how do you know this?"  
  
"I saw them leaving his room together, today."  
  
"And I should believe you why..?"  
  
"Because I'm right. You don't see her anywhere around here do you?" Harry frowned at the point Malfoy had.  
  
"Even so, why would you be telling me this?"  
  
"You think I like a Slytherin dating wizarding trash, much less the Head Boy? I want you to intervene Potter."  
  
"And how the hell do you expect me to do that?"  
  
"Snape's right, you Are a dunderhead. Weasley's had a thing for you since your first year, maybe if you pay her a bit of attention, she'll drop Zabini."  
  
"Hmm" was all Harry said. 'Not like it'd be hard to pay her attention at all,' a small voice said.  
  
"So here's the deal, Potter. You keep the little weasel preoccupied, and I will make sure Zabini loses interest in her."  
  
"Bloody hell you really are a git, Malfoy," Harry cursed, knocking him in the shoulder as he passed the blond haired boy.  
  
Malfoy smirked, he knew Potter would try anyway to keep his precious mudblood lover from being hurt, and if that was the only way to do it - which it was - he would do it.  
  
~*~  
  
What on earth had she been thinking? Why didn't she just make a break for the door instead of teasing Zabini. "Urgh Ginny, get a hold of yourself." she murmured.  
  
"Hey Gin," called a soft voice from behind her. She spun around to face him, insult in hand, but halted when she realised it was just Harry. Just Harry?! Was she actually disappointed that it wasn't Blaise? This had gone too far. She had to do something about this problem… yes, Zabini had become a problem. Her gaze snapped up to Harry, who was still standing there waiting for a response and regarding her curiously. A plan began to form in her head as she stared at him. She could use Harry to discourage Zabini from pursuing her further, and it wasn't like she was really using Harry, was it? He was the one she wanted to be with, not Blaise, she told herself.  
  
"Um, Ginny?" Harry repeated, waving his hand before her. Her eyes focused suddenly and she smiled brightly at him.  
  
"Hey Harry, going to breakfast?"  
  
"Um yeah. We, that is Hermione, Ron and I, were just looking for you."  
  
"Oh, yeah, I fell asleep in the library," she lied. "Worried about me, Harry?" She teased, causing him to laugh uneasily.  
  
"Of course, Ginny." Somehow hearing those words didn't lift her spirits like they would have in the past. Shaking it off, she smiled kindly at him.  
  
"Well, shall we find my brother and Hermione, and then head down to breakfast?" she questioned, linking her arm through his. Harry grinned at the attention he was receiving from her. It would make his job a lot easier, and nodded in agreement.  
  
~*~  
  
Blaise glowered at Weasley from across the Great Hall. It was thoroughly disgusting how she was hanging all over bloody Harry Potter. "Stupid mudblood lover.." he spat.  
  
"That's more like it, Zabini." Malfoy chuckled. "Weasley's are nothing but wizard trash."  
  
Blaise's jaw tightened, but he somehow managed not to permanently injure Malfoy for the comment, and instead muttered, "Yeah.." After another 10 minutes of cursing and glaring at Potter, he stormed out of the hall seeking someone or something to destroy. Malfoy watched Blaise retreat with malicious delight. His plan was working perfectly.  
  
~*~  
  
Ginny too noticed Blaise leave in a fit, and frowned a tad. Harry, observing that for once Malfoy seemed to be right, tried to get Ginny's mind off of him as quickly as possible.  
  
"So Gin, you want to go for a walk?"  
  
"Um, I'm not sure Harry." She liked hanging around him, but wanted to go after Blaise and see if his ribs might still be bothering him.  
  
"Please Gin... come on!"  
  
She sighed and nodded, "Very well Harry, but I've some work to finish up so we'll have to cut it short."  
  
Harry grinned, and draped his arm around her. "Mhm… since when have you ever worried about school work?" She faked a grin and shrugged her shoulders, trying unsuccessfully to get him to remove his arm. They walked over to the lake, and she finally tugged away from him to skip a few rocks, only half-listening to him.  
  
"… and next week is the Slytherin-Gryffindor game, you going Ginny?"  
  
"Mhm," she murmured, not knowing to what she was agreeing. Harry's brow raised at this.  
  
"You know, you're really ugly," he lied, testing his theory.  
  
"Mhm."  
  
"You look like Blaise Zabini on drugs, maybe?" he lied once more, testing another theory.  
  
"Huh?" She asked, her head snapping up at the mention of Blaise's name.  
  
"Nothing, love, you just weren't paying attention, that's all." She smiled faintly, but paled at him using the term love.  
  
"Maybe the Weasel doesn't like hearing you ramble on and on about your majestically dull life, Potter?" drawled Zabini, as he stepped from the shadows of Hagrid's hut.  
  
Could this day get any worse? He'd come out to escape them, and it was almost as if they'd followed him. Then he'd been forced to listen to their dismal attempt at conversation, but there was no way in hell that Potter was calling his Weasley 'Love'. He was a Slytherin, and a damn Zabini, he got what he wanted.  
  
Harry stood, angry that Blaise was interrupting, "So sulking around and eavesdropping is a characteristic of all Slytherins, is it?"  
  
"No, it's a characteristic of the Head Boy, Potter. Now get back to the castle, I've got to write Weasley here up."  
  
"On what grounds!?!"  
  
"This lake contains many special creatures, imbecile, you should know that. Weasley is throwing potentially damaging rocks at them, what else should I do?"  
  
"That's shit, Zabini!"  
  
"Watch it Potter, or I'll write you up too." Harry started to dare him to, but Ginny stepped in front of him, and gently pushed him in the direction of the castle.  
  
"It's alright, Harry, I'll be fine. No need to get detention over something so silly." He frowned, and shot Zabini a glare, before sweeping Ginny up, off her feet, and into a hug. Startled, she grabbed his hips. Before she could say anything though, Harry replaced her on her feet, kissed her forehead, and started back to the castle.  
  
Blaise clenched his fist, trying with all his might not to go after Potter and beat the living daylights out of him. It wasn't so much the hug that bothered him, as her reaction to the hug. She tensed when he touched her, and grabbed onto Potter when he merely hugged her.  
  
"Like that, Weasel? Well that's another write up for PDA, Personal Display of Affection." Ginny rolled her eyes, and turned back around from watching Harry.  
  
"What's this really about, Blaise? Why are you sulking about out here?"  
  
"Don't know what your babbling about, Weasel, but you need to get back to the castle, so let's go." He took hold of her upper arm and started to walk towards Harry, but stopped when she gasped. "Wha…" his voice trailed off into nothing as he realised that Ginny had gasped in pain.  
  
Before she could stop him, he lifted her sleeve and frowned at the cut that was still there from last time. It looked fresh, too, and infected. "Weasley, you really have a problems with knives, you know that right?"  
  
She jerked her arm away, biting her lip as the action caused it to start bleeding again. "You don't know anything about it!" she yelled at him.  
  
"So tell me! I'm all ears." He advanced slowly towards her, studying her expressions.  
  
"I can't… can't explain anything to anyone... I'm sorry." And with that, she ran back to the castle.  
  
~*~  
  
She couldn't tell him what the cut was? He was a Slytherin. One who had helped her, yes, but nevertheless a Slytherin. Wasn't Harry her dream boy anymore..?  
  
"STOP RIGHT THERE!!!"  
  
Ginny froze, and turned around. Filch. Filch and his damn cat, Norris. Could this day get any worse? Fifteen long minutes and a lecture later, she stomped up the stairs, detention notice in hand. Tracking mud in the castle, her ass. Bloody bastard was to close to that cat, if you asked her.  
  
"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes"  
  
The portrait swung open, and she collapsed into one of the plush chairs in the common room. After a while, the headache from Filch's lecture began to subside, and she decided to start on some homework when she realised that her stuff was still in Zabini's room. Blaise…  
  
Her mind trailed back to her earlier thoughts before Filch. Was Harry still the man of her dreams..? And in that instant she knew that he wasn't. Not that Blaise was either, but it would be true to say she liked him, she supposed. Ginny brushed a few tears away, and sighed, leaning back further into the chair, wishing she could sink into it and disappear.  
  
"You ok Ginny? What'd he say to you?" Her eyes flew open. Oh this was just peachy. Harry.  
  
"Um, well I convinced Zabini not to give me detention, but then Filch gave me detention with Snape for tracking non-existent mud into the castle."  
  
"Oh, sorry.."  
  
"Don't worry about it Harry." She smiled some, patting his arm. His eyes lit up a little at the gesture, and he paled a bit.  
  
"Um… umm Gin, say wouldyouliketogotothecostumeballwithme?" he said in one rush.  
  
This time she smiled sadly, she couldn't lead Harry on. Slytherin or not, Blaise was her crush, and she was going to ask him to the ball.  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry... I can't."  
  
"There's someone else isn't there?" She wondered how he could know, but nodded.  
  
"Mhm, I'm sorry.."  
  
"Me too Gin," he sighed wistfully.  
  
Eager of avoiding an awkward silence, she stood, "I better get to detention with Snape, there'll be hell to pay if I'm late." With that, she made her exit quietly from the common room.  
  
~*~  
  
Ron came bursting in the common room moments after Ginny left.  
  
"Ask her yet, Harry?"  
  
"Nope.."   
  
"Oh.. .ok. Wanna play Wizard Chess?"  
  
Harry may not be going with Ginny to the ball, but he wasn't about to let her be hurt by that Slytherin git. He glanced at the time he was supposed to be in the dungeons on a slip of paper, and joined Ron at a table to play a game Wizard Chess.  
  
~*~  
  
He had seen Pothead come in from his walk without the youngest Weasley, and noticed Zabini murmuring to himself later about maybe having a chance with something. He would have a chance with Ginny Weasley when Hell froze over. He wrote a note to Potter, and slipped it to him. He would be the one supervising the Weasel. Smirking, he began to prepare himself for the fun ahead.  
  
~*~  
  
Of course the day got worse. Draco sodding Malfoy was supervising her detention, as Snape had said he had "Better things to do than oversee an idiot-child who couldn't wipe her feet at the door."  
  
Bastard. She'd rather work for Snape any day than Malfoy. Well, she would make the potion, simple enough, and leave as soon as possible. In the middle of mixing her potion, she finally snapped. The entire time he had been smirking knowingly at her.   
  
"WHAT!?!"   
  
"Wishing it was another seventh year Slytherin supervising this little rendezvous?"  
  
"I don't want to spend time with any other Slytherins, much less you."  
  
"Ah, but much more than Zabini, hm..?"  
  
"Wha- " he grasped her and pulled him closer, kissing her hard. She struggled to find some way to get away. All of a sudden, Harry was there and Malfoy was thrown across the room.  
  
"Get off her! You ok Gin..?" She nodded, dizzy from the force Malfoy had used.  
  
"Uh-huh.. I'm... fine," she saw Harry shoot Malfoy a glare, and him sneer back at him, but oddly enough neither insulted the other.  
  
"I'm glad Zabini gave me this job tonight, little Weasel, I'll look around for you," he winked at her lewdly.  
  
"Liar!" she shouted. Why would Blaise do that? He had to be lying.  
  
"Oh really, Weasel...? Take a look at this pensieve." He pulled out his portable pensieve, and set it on a table in front of her. "Go ahead and see."  
  
"You don't have to Gin.." Harry piped in. She frowned and peered closer in.   
  
Suddenly, she was in the Great Hall. Blaise was eyeing Malfoy with contempt. "You go ahead and supervise the little bitch's detention, I've got some other things to do.." A pretty Ravenclaw girl appeared next to him, smiling invitingly.   
  
Then her vision blurred and she was back in the dungeons with Harry and Malfoy. Harry looked strangely pale, and Malfoy looked elated. But none of that registered to Gin, her mind was still on Blaise. How could she have liked him? Of course he only wanted to use her - just like Riddle and Malfoy. All guys wanted was to use her.  
  
What about Harry? a little voice in the back of her head nagged. She pushed past Harry quickly, unable to face either him or Malfoy and rushed to the Owlery, she had business to take care of. Her mind was racing as she wrote furiously, so furious in fact that she tore a small hole in the paper. She signed the letter swiftly, and sent it with Pigwidgeon.  
  
She never wanted to see Blaise Zabini again, and when the post came tomorrow morning, he would know it too. Never again would she be so reckless in her decision making. And she was going to the Costume Party with Harry Potter.  
  
~*~  
  
So that was what she wanted, eh? Harry Potter? Well so be it. He'd thought he had seen the truth in her eyes yesterday by the lake, but he must have been wrong. But did it have to be with Potter? The bitch was probably just trying to make Potter jealous with him or something. He threw the letter into the fire, and watched it disintegrate into ash. She was right about one thing though. If you can't beat them, join them. He rubbed his forearm gingerly, thinking about the pain at tonight's induction ceremony. 


	5. The Transfiguration Professor

Miss.Independent.  
  
By: Arabella  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, do you think I'd be posting it here for free? Exactly. However, the plot's mine. Touch and die.  
  
Recommended Story: Playing With Fire (Draco/Ginny) - Crimson, The Weasel and The Kneazle (Draco/Ginny) - Davesmom , Aflame (Blaise/Ginny) - Davesmom., Fallen Angel (Remus/Ginny) - Phantom Quill., Finding A Friend (Draco/Ginny) - Tikal.  
  
A/N: This starts five years after Ginny's 6th year, and Blaise's 7th. A revel is what they call the deatheater meetings, at least I think it is.  
  
Chapter Five: The Transfiguration Professor.   
  
- August 25 -  
  
Ginny roamed through the empty halls, enjoying the time before the new term started. This would be her second year teaching at Hogwarts. She just couldn't seem to give up her alma mater.  
  
After graduating, she'd helped the effort to defeat Voldemort. For one long year she'd worked tirelessly beside Severus Snape in concocting potions crucial to the war. She'd taken Snape's job last year after he'd been killed. How he managed to teach, play Death Eater, and somehow find time to help her brew potions for a whole year she never knew. But it was finally over, Voldemort was gone forever.  
  
She paused as she rounded the corner and a statue of Salazar Slytherin came into view. Was this still the Head Boy's room she wondered curiously, but quickly quelled the thought. Ginny eventually found herself back in the entrance of the school, and paused, taking a seat on one of the steps there.  
  
It was over. Lord Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, whoever he was, could never harm her again. Oh, but how he'd harmed her in so many ways. She'd lost three brothers to this effort. Charlie in her sixth year, Percy had gone mad from the Cruciatus curse and was in St Mungo's, and she'd lost Ron in the final battle.  
  
It had been between Harry and Voldemort. Harry had been fighting off the Imperious curse, but wasn't quick enough as Voldemort was about to utter the Killing Curse. That is, before Ron threw himself in front of Harry. Nearly blinded by rage, Harry had finished Voldemort off with a powerful Avada Kedavra. And even though Ron had been hailed a hero, life just hadn't been the same without her overprotective, easily-frustrated older brother.  
  
Not only were the Weasley's upset, but worst of all was Ron's fiancé, Hermione. Poor Hermione, she thought. The two had finally gotten over their stubbornness, realised they were made for each other, and then he died. She cursed Voldemort vehemently beneath her breath. He had ruined so many lives.  
  
Ever since Ron's death, Hermione had retreated into her books like she had before Ron. Sure she was friendly with Ginny, but it wasn't the same. There was no more light, determination in her eyes.  
  
Speaking of which, Ginny was to meet Hermione in the library (where else) to see how her interview with Professor Dumbledore went. Though Hermione had accepted the History of Magic position, her heart was in Transfiguration. Naturally, when McGonagall retired unexpectedly, Hermione was first to apply for the position. Earlier today, she was supposed to have met with Dumbledore to find out if she'd got the job or not. She checked her pocket watch, Ron's old watch, and hurried to the library for her meeting. Once she got there, she found a very angry Hermione slamming books about the library, much to Madame Pince's dismay.  
  
"Choose Him over me. HIM. OF ALL BLOODY PEOPLE!" One of the books tried to protest at the rough-handling it received by screeching at her, but quickly found itself stunned.  
  
"Ahem… am I interrupting anything?" Ginny asked a bit worriedly.  
  
"Hm?" Hermione looked up at her, still flustered. "Of course not. You did miss something though, Gin."  
  
"Uh… what's that, Hermione?"  
  
"Dumbledore appointing Draco Sodding Malfoy, the new Transfiguration Professor!"  
  
"He did WHAT?!" she screeched, now understanding fully the tizzy that Hermione was in.  
  
"You heard me. I don't care if he did turn good, that job was mine."  
  
"How could Dumbledore appoint Malfoy? He's.."  
  
"Evil? Dead sexy? An eavesdropper?" They both stopped and stared at each other as Draco Malfoy stepped out from an aisle over, and into theirs.  
  
"More like a pathetic, job-stealing git." Hermione spat furiously. Malfoy's brow arched perfectly.  
  
"Careful Granger, I could always transfigure you into one of the books you love so well."  
  
"You just try, you bastard." Ginny coughed a bit uncomfortably.  
  
"Oh, I apologise weasel, we forgot about you amidst our argument, you're free to go." She shot him a glare.  
  
"Bugger off, Malfoy."  
  
"Aw… but it's so much fun bugging you, Granger. "  
  
"Well as tempting as it is for you, do try and contain yourself long enough to kick your ass out of the library, will you Malfoy?"  
  
"Bah… you two are no fun." Draco turned and sauntered easily out of sight.  
  
This time Ginny raised her eyebrows. Was Draco Malfoy attempting to tease her and Hermione? She turned back to Hermione, faintly amused.  
  
"That was quite interesting." Her lips pursed tightly, reminding Ginny strongly of McGonagall.  
  
"Quite."  
  
- October -  
  
The start of the new year had certainly gotten off to an interesting start. While Hermione could now admit that Draco was indeed qualified for the position as Transfiguration Professor, she was still angry that Dumbledore had chosen him over her.  
  
Ginny, on the other hand, tried to steer clear of any arguments between the two. Surprisingly enough, she found Draco quite funny. Since the war (where he had indeed turned good, helping gather information for the Order of the Phoenix) he had changed from being the Slytherin prat she knew him as, to being a humorous friend of hers. He'd confided in her eventually, when she'd asked what had changed him, that at one of the battles, he'd been so intent upon the killing, he'd killed an innocent. A friend of his. Pansy Parkinson had been a close friend (and nothing else) of his for years. While she was frequently annoying and stupid, she had been a loyal friend of his. Death Eaters didn't have many friends. He'd stood over her, after he'd killed her. Pansy had just stared blankly back at him.  
  
From that moment forth, Draco Malfoy traded information with Albus Dumbledore, giving dates of Revels and any other information he could provide. Ginny was startled to find that his sarcastic, Slytherin wit was much like her own dry humour. After getting a few things settled and out of the way, the two had bonded, becoming fast friends. He was what she needed in her life at the moment, humour. There was only one subject that they could not discuss. Blaise.  
  
"So Weasley, me and Zabini were in this bar once, and... Weasley?" Draco smirked as he saw his red-headed friend choking upon her tea. "You ok there?"  
  
"Yeah… sure." He went on to regale her about his annoying bar-room adventures with Blaise, till finally Ginny couldn't stand it.  
  
"So then, Blaise says to the hook-"  
  
"Malfoy, I really don't give a flying fuck what Bl-Zabini said to the hooker."  
  
"Ah, but little weasel, didn't your mother ever teach you not to lie?"  
  
She scowled. "Shove it."  
  
"You first." He flicked one of the little crumpets she'd provided him at her.  
  
"Oh it's on now, Malfoy!" She cried, and started pelting him with crumpets.  
  
"Ow! Damn, Ginny, where'd you learn to throw like that? Never mind, those barbaric twin brothers of yours probably taught you." She threw more at him, laughing at his plight.  
  
"Ugh! That's it, no more Mr Nice Dragon." With that, he jumped up from the chair and tackled her to the floor of her living room. "Hah! I caught me a weasel!"  
  
"You wish, Malfoy."  
  
"Not really, now admit it!"  
  
"NO!"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Fine, I'll tickle it out of you." He started to tickle her stomach lightly.  
  
"You-Are-So-Immature!" She cried between laughs, "Fine, fine, you win."  
  
"Hah! Now say Draco Malfoy is a Supreme Being!"  
  
"Really Malfoy, you need to do something about that oversized ego of yours." She giggled.  
  
"I agree.."  
  
Both their heads snapped up to stare at none other than Blaise Zabini. "If you'll just give me the password to Dumbledore's office, you can go play with your kitten, Malfoy." He practically growled at Draco. True, Draco was no longer a bastard, and was still a friend of his. But he was pawing the feisty redhead that had haunted him since he'd graduated.  
  
"It's Chocolate Frog, Zabini." Malfoy replied, recovering quickly from his immediate surprise. "Now, Weasel, did I hear you call me Supreme Being?"   
  
Blaise coughed loudly, and Malfoy looked up at him smirking mischievously. "Yes, Blaise, old pal, need more help?"  
  
Blaise rolled his eyes. "Yeah, show me the way to Dumbledore's office, why don't you?"  
  
"But I thought you just needed the password."  
  
Blaise shrugged, " I forgot the way too, oops."  
  
"Hmmm, what is it with people and lying to me today, eh Weasel? First you, then Zabini. Anyway, thanks for the tea Gin, I'll see you at dinner." With that, he released Ginny, and followed a visibly irritated Blaise Zabini outside, leaving Ginny, still frozen in shock on the floor.  
  
Had he just referred to her as a kitten?!  
  
~*~  
  
"So what was all that about, Malfoy?"  
  
"Whatever are you talking about, Zabini?" replied Draco, grinning like the Cheshire cat.  
  
"Don't fuck with me. Why didn't you tell me you were with her?"  
  
"Oh I don't know, maybe because I'm not with her."  
  
"Whatever… I know the way from here."  
  
"Oh, so I can go back to Gin's then?" Draco asked innocently, starting to turn around. Blaise gripped his arm before he got far, however.  
  
"What can I say, I have a sudden bout of amnesia." He released his arm and they continued on to Dumbledore's office in companionable silence, each thinking about a girl.  
  
Once they reached his office, Dumbledore seemed almost as if he'd been waiting for them both, even though Blaise wasn't actually due to arrive for another two months.  
  
"Ah, Mr Zabini, here you are."  
  
A little taken aback, he nodded. "Yeah, I know I'm not due till December, but I needed a place to stay, an-"  
  
"Say no more." Dumbledore held his hand up, stopping him from finishing." You're always welcome here at Hogwarts, Mr Zabini."  
  
"Yes, I suppose."  
  
"Though, there are a limited number of spaces where you could stay, I'm afraid."  
  
"I beg to differ, Albus, this castle's huge."  
  
"Ah, but for faculty the range's limited. And, unless I'm mistaken, a new room won't open itself up until December."  
  
Blaise frowned, but didn't protest further. After all Dumbledore had done for him he didn't wish to be seen as ungrateful.  
  
"Very well, where will I be staying?"  
  
"Well, let's see." He fumbled through a handful of scrolls, finally choosing the correct one. He read the scroll quietly beneath his breath. They saw his eyes widen slightly as he peered closer at the parchment, before straightening again. " It appears, that you will be staying with Ms Weasley." 


	6. The Potions Mistress

Miss.Independent.  
  
By: Arabella  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, do you think I'd be posting it here for free? Exactly. However, the plot's mine. Touch and die.  
  
Recommended Story: Playing With Fire (Draco/Ginny) - Crimson, The Weasel and The Kneazle (Draco/Ginny) - Davesmom , Aflame (Blaise/Ginny) - Davesmom., Fallen Angel (Remus/Ginny) - Phantom Quill., Finding A Friend (Draco/Ginny) - Tikal.  
  
A/N: I believe, though I may be mistaken, that the gathering of Deatheaters was referred to as 'Dark revels'.   
  
Chapter Six: The Potions Mistress.  
  
Bloody Dumbledore! What was he playing at? Having him room with a Weasley?! Because of his last name, Zabini, the scroll had automatically slotted him in as room mate to Ginny Weasley. Cursing his rotten luck, he summoned his bags to follow him and headed to his new room. Smirking maliciously he slammed the door open, hoping to startle the redhead.  
  
Once again, his plans were foiled.  
  
There was no indignant screeching, or any movement in the small quarters at all. Grumbling to himself, he headed to find the bedroom unoccupied. He frowned as he noted that Ginny's bedroom seemed larger than his, but it was liveable, he supposed. He pulled a few sets of robes from his bags and started to unpack, but he found that the drawers were full of Weasley's things, along with the closet.  
  
"Urgh..." he murmured. Maybe he would unpack later. For now, he decided to tour the school and get familiar with it again.  
  
  
  
It was as if he'd never left school. He remembered every hidden passage and classroom. He let his feet carry him, as his mind wandered back to his school years. He couldn't believe he was actually back. While the bad memories far outweighed the good, he was still drawn to this school. Perhaps, because it had been the closest thing to a home he'd ever had. And it was stable, he could count on Hogwarts to be here whenever he needed it.  
  
He looked up, wondering where he'd been walking to. Ah, the potions room! A semblance of a smile crossed his face. Some of his happier memories had taken place in this room. He had practically considered Severus his father for a while, before… things had gotten so messed up in the war. Sighing, he shook the thought from his head, and pushed the door open, entering quietly.  
  
~*~  
  
Ginny stepped into the room a few moments later, frowning at how it had gotten dark so suddenly. It was naturally dank and dreary in the potions dungeon, but she tried to keep it well lit at least. Oh well, she knew her way around this room like the back of her hand and where everything was placed. She needed to hurry and finish a potion for Remus Lupin, anyway. She'd assumed the job, though she didn't mind it at all, of making Lupin's monthly werewolf potion. This month, had flown by so quickly, she'd forgotten that her supply of Wolfsbane potion was nearly out, and she needed to make more.  
  
Gathering the ingredients, she hurriedly threw them into the simmering cauldron. She knelt down to stoke the fire beneath the cauldron, but straightened instantly as she heard something behind her rustling.  
  
"Who's there...?" her wand was already out. She was on many a Death Eater's hit list now, and she wasn't about to give up without a fight. She looked around for a moment, hearing absolutely nothing but her own breathing.  
  
"Gin… you're going crazy," she muttered to herself, and returned to the potion.  
  
~*~  
  
A faint smile glimpsed his lips as he watched her from where he stood. He should have known better than to think she wouldn't hear him, but he hadn't been able to resist the temptation to see what she would do. Weasley, the Potions Mistress? Well, he mused, she had always been talented in Potions. He frowned at her rushed behaviour, though, but relaxed when he realised why she was hurrying when he saw the ingredients that would make the wolfsbane potion for Lupin. Mentally he calculated the days till the new moon, three days. No wonder she was hurrying, Lupin would have to take the potion a few days ahead of the moon so it could have time to react with his Lycan blood stream.   
  
~*~  
  
Ginny sighed with relief once the potion was finally finished about an hour later. Bottling it up, she hurried over to the fireplace, pinching a bit of powder as well. She threw the powder into the fire and shouted, "Remus Lupin!" A few seconds later, Remus's head popped into the fire and stared up at her, smiling. "Potion ready, Ginny?"   
  
"Yes Professor, finally. I'm sorry it took so long." He waved aside her apologies, as he stepped out of the fire place, dusting soot from his robes.  
  
"Don't worry about it, Gin, and I think you can dispense with the 'Professor' title now. Please just call me Remus." She laughed and handed him the oddly shaped bottle.  
  
"Alright, Remus. How're things going? Heard anything about Harry?"  
  
"Things are much better since… well since the war ended, as you know. And Harry's just about done with Auror training. You know he asked about you last week when I saw him." Lupin grinned secretively, his mind wandering back to Harry's not-so subtle questioning of what he knew about Ginny's love life.  
  
"Oh?" Ginny asked, blushing slightly, "Well, tell him to stop by and ask me himself sometime."   
  
Remus's grin grew, "Exactly what I told him, Ginny." He stopped abruptly, and glanced around apprehensively. "Is someone else here, Ginny?" He sniffed the air somewhat, picking up a different scent.  
  
"No… just me, why?"  
  
"Oh… no reason I suppose. The full moon just makes me a little crazy and over sensitive I suppose. But I'd better get going though. Thanks again for the potion, Gin."   
  
"No problem." She smiled and waved at him.   
  
After a wave goodbye, Remus stepped into the fire and he soon disappeared. She extinguished the fire, plunging the entire dungeons into pitch black. She was in the process of shutting and locking the door to her office carefully, when she heard the rustling noise again. She had heard something earlier; Lupin had commented on something being different, and here was this noise again. This was not a coincidence, someone was there, with her.   
  
"Okay, I know someone's in here. Show yourself." She took a cautious step out in front of her, listening acutely for anything, grasping onto her wand so tight her knuckles turned white. She started to illuminate the room with a 'Lumos' spell, but decided that would only give her stalker the advantage of knowing where she was. So, she carefully took another step towards the door, and slammed right into a wall. Well, it felt like a wall anyway. She almost fell, except for the wall's arms came around her, preventing the fall. Ginny froze instantly. "Who are you?" the body holding her close shook lightly with laughter.  
  
"Did you forget me so soon, Weasley?" Blaise asked quietly.  
  
'No, it can't be', Ginny thought to herself, panicking. What was he doing down here?   
  
"Zabini?" She squeaked, pulling an arm out from the embrace he still held her in. Her free hand travelled up what she thought had been a wall, and traced the facial features of the man, and she barely suppressed a gasp. No. He would not do this to her again. She wrenched free, stumbling back a little.   
  
"None other, Weasley."   
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"I was bored."  
  
"What do you need?"  
  
Pause.  
  
"Nothing. Sorry to have disturbed you, Weasley. Feel free to write your love letter to Potter once I'm gone." He turned away, and started to try and find his way to the door.  
  
Instant indignation swelled up in Ginny, how dare he eavesdrop on her conversation and then mock her.  
  
"Wait just a damn minute, Zabini," she called. He stopped instantly, but she was already walking toward him, unable to see him in the dark. She grabbed his shirt sleeve, and intended to turn him around to face her, but somehow lost her footing and fell into him. This time, he wasn't ready for her, and fell too. Ginny lucked out , as Blaise broke her fall quite comfortably.   
  
"You know, Weasley, you really need to stop doing this."   
  
"Oh as if I'd choose to fall on you, Zabini."  
  
"Well… this is twice you've fallen onto a man, all in one day, Weasley, coincidence, I think not," he drawled, wondering how riled up he could get her.  
  
"It's called not being able to see, Zabini, you idiot."  
  
"It's called 'Lumos', Weasley." At that point his wand glowed, and an eerie light covered them. Ginny's eyes widened as she realised not that she was still lying on top of him, but that she didn't mind it at all.  
  
Blaise, on the other hand, was fighting a losing battle. He had been furious that she still even thought about Potter, and had tried to leave undetected, but of course was caught. Then she'd fallen into him, and traced his face with her slender finger. Needless to say, his anger had vanished. Only to be replaced by a desire, that was growing steadily every moment she was atop of him. He'd tried to keep his voice neutral, and tone menacing, but she just wouldn't let him be. The damn klutz was turning him on and she didn't even realise it.  
  
Steeling himself against her, he pushed her off of him. He stood quickly, brushing his robes off. Ginny grimaced when she saw the action.  
  
"Haven't grown out of your 'Weasley filth be gone' habit I see?"  
  
A fine brow arched at this. "Well, as it looks like I'll be living with you, I better get over it, I'd say."  
  
Ginny started to retort coolly, when she realised what he'd said. "WHAT?!"  
  
"Geez, Weasley... can it or you'll wake students up."  
  
"What?!" Ginny repeated the question, although she knew exactly what he'd said… she just couldn't quite believe it. How could this have happened?  
  
"Uhh... deaf and dumb as well, I see."  
  
"Fuck you, Zabini!" she yelled, and stormed out of the dungeon.  
  
Blaise stood there, watching her leave; watching the curve of her slender body as she stormed off. Even when angry, she still turned him on.  
  
"Talk about a major case of déjá vu'.." he murmured quietly, before letting himself out of the dungeons. "..this is going to be interesting," he remarked, wondering just what the hell he was in for.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
A/N: Was it worth the wait? And thank my brilliant beta, Carolyn, for her editing! ~Arabella~ 


	7. Roomies

Chapter Seven: Roomies  
  
Unbelievable!  
  
Ginny had gone straight to the source to find out if Blaise was telling the truth. Dumbledore, as it turned out had just left for a Ministry meeting, so she'd received a lecture from Professor Flitwick, the new Deputy Headmaster, on how she was an adult and should be able to get along with a colleague.   
  
"Damn it. I'd like to see him share a room with someone he dislikes! Like Lockhart!" Ginny grumbled to herself as left McGonagall's office.  
  
  
  
"I think I'd pay to see that, Ma'am," came a voice from behind her.  
  
Ginny jumped nearly a foot in the air. What was it with people sneaking up on her these days?! She turned around to find herself facing the new Divination professor. She knew that there was another new professor starting this term, as her eyes landed on the Hogwarts emblem on this persons cloak, she assumed this was other new staff member. What surprised her, was that the new Divination teacher was... a guy.   
  
"I'm sorry... I do have a tendency to unintentionally sneak up on people." He smiled amicably and held out his hand. "Professor Brock Lanston, ma'am."  
  
Ginny returned the smile, "Professor Ginny Weasley, I teach Potions. I assume you're the new Divination teacher?"  
  
"Ah, you assume correctly, check your tea leaves today did you?" he asked jokingly.  
  
Ginny laughed, she liked this new guy. He was certainly an improvement from Professor Trelawney, who, like Professor McGonagall, had retired at the end of the previous school year.   
  
After a few moments of polite conversation, in which he followed Ginny to her door, they said good night and she promised to save him a seat at breakfast the next morning.   
  
"So... is that who you dumped Potter for?"   
  
It came as soon as she entered her darkened quarters, she looked around but Blaise was nowhere to be seen. So the bastard has an invisibility cloak. She stored a mental note of this in her mind.  
  
"Lose the invisibility cloak, Zabini."  
  
A few moments of silence passed, but she stood firmly where she was.   
  
"Fine, act like a two year old. I'm going to take a shower."  
  
She had no idea she was talking to an empty room.   
  
Angry at the prat, aptly named Blaise, she flung the bathroom door open, sending the door knob into the wall. The noise didn't shock her. A half nude Blaise Zabini certainly did though. He had definitely filled out since their days together at Hogwarts. But many scars had been added since then as well, she gasped at the lash marks across his back. Blaise forced himself not to jump as the littlest Weasley made her presence known.   
  
Ginny expected him to yell at her for walking in on him, but he didn't. It was almost as if he knew what she was thinking. He merely stared at her, almost daring her to find something to insult. Still, he didn't ask her to leave.   
  
Instead, he advanced upon her slowly.  
  
Ginny instinctively backed away from him, trying courageously to keep her eyes on his face and not his chest. Eventually, she hit a wall and Zabini was on her in a second. He placed a hand on either side of her head.   
  
"Like what you see, runt?"  
  
Her eyes, which had been concentrating on a spot on the wall behind him, flew to his, surprised. He hadn't forgotten the incidents during her sixth year. She was unsure why she was glad, but she was anyway.  
  
"Are you going to answer me?" he asked, a trace of amusement in his voice. Her eyes fell to her feet and she stared at them, ignoring him completely. She was trapped by him. It was the Chamber of Secrets all over again.  
  
Amused at her reactions, Blaise grumbled when she still didn't reply, "Damn it, and look at me."  
  
Her eyes rose steadily to meet his, but he noticed a glimmer of fear in them. All amusement in the situation drained out of him and the hands on either side of Ginny clenched and stiffened until his knuckles were pale. He moved away from her swiftly, his movements jerky and unsteady.  
  
"Get out of here, Weasley." She hurriedly complied, not even stopping to close the door.   
  
He slammed the door behind her, and braced himself against the countertop. What was she scared of? He had meant to be intimidating, not frightening. Blaise froze, and looked up at the mirror in front of him, his eyes falling on the ruddy patch on his arm.  
  
"Damn it all.." So this had scared her? There was no Dark Mark showing, but he had obviously been unconsciously been rubbing at it, and she'd noticed the position of the mark, even if it was invisible to her eyes. Well she'd better get used to it. He couldn't change his past, as much as he wanted to. And he was here to stay.  
  
After a scalding shower, he emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel, his arm particularly red from where he'd scrubbed it. As he'd neglected to bring clothes into the tiny bathroom, he opened the door slightly wary and peered out, checking to see if the coast was clear. The door to what appeared to be Ginny's room was closed and he heard muffled sounds from the room. Crying.   
  
A strand of curses flew from his lips as he realised that he was the reason she was crying. He was always the reason for her pain it seemed. Before he could stop himself or think about the rationality of his action, or even his state of undress, he knocked lightly on her door. When she didn't answer, he tried the door. It was locked. Frowning, he started to grab his wand, before remembering it was in his room among his other things.  
  
Shaking his head, he headed towards his room. Throwing open his suitcase, he plucked the first things he saw, a knit black sweater, and black slacks. While he dressed he struggled, as his mind grappled with the fact that Ginny was crying. And then, with a wry laugh he thought, 'well she isn't Miss Innocent either'.  
  
She wasn't the only one always being hurt, though he'd be damned before he'd let her know it.  
  
But then he would be living with her for two months, and needed to get along with his room-mate. Maybe he had come on a little strong in the bathroom. He'd apologise (yes, he'd finally learned how to do that) and they'd work out a schedule for the bathroom, and that'd be that.  
  
Clearing his thoughts, he sat and wrote out a schedule, and grabbing his wand, returned to her room. After knocking and once again receiving no reply, he whispered "Alohomora" and opened the door quietly. He frowned as he saw her sprawled in a chair, snoring softly.  
  
He walked over to the edge of the chair, and nudged her lightly. No doubt she'd scream if she came to with him in her room, towering over her precious Gryffindor-self. He rolled her eyes as she wrinkled her nose.  
  
"Please, Weasley... Don't tell me you dislike me in your sleep as well," Blaise muttered.  
  
He should've just left her. Had it been anyone else. Parkinson, Granger, he would have. Hell, he wouldn't have even bothered with trying to apologise to them. But he couldn't seem to help himself when it came to Ginny. For some reason this little sprite wielded control over his mind and body.  
  
What did it matter if she woke up in the morning with a neck ache because she was too stupid to fall asleep in a bed like a normal person? Of course, there was definitely nothing normal about this Weasley. Scowling at the thought, Blaise moved to her bed and pulled down the sheets, startled - for some reason - to find them quite soft and inviting.  
  
Next he gingerly scooped her up in his arms as if she was a rag doll, and laid her gently in the bed, careful not to stumble over anything in the darkened room as he carried her. Before he pulled the blankets up over her, his eyes flickered down the length her body of their own accord. So sue him, he was a Slytherin.  
  
Even in sleep and a dark room, he considered her beautiful. But he didn't need a lighted room to know that she had one freckle on her top left cheek a bit below the eye. He'd memorised her face long ago from a pictured he'd pilfered from Potter and crew. One of his long, tapered fingers moved lightly across her cheek as she slept, before he covered her with the sheets and blankets.   
  
"Harry..." she whispered softly in her sleep.   
  
He froze, his body stiff as a board. So she was still enamoured with the ruddy boy who lived. Go. Fucking. Figure. Pulling the bathroom schedule from his back pocket, he placed it on her nightstand. Barely suppressing the urge to growl ferociously, he stalked from the room, somehow managing not to slam the door.  
  
~*~  
  
The other occupant in the room smiled. True, he'd nearly died of a heart attack when the former Death Eater had entered. Zabini was trained, like all the others, to notice all presences in a room. But Zabini hadn't noticed him. Wouldn't the master have been sad?   
  
He chuckled at his luck. Blaise had never been fully alert when he'd entered the room, all his attention was focused on the wench asleep in her bed. This was going better than he could ever have imagined. Practically giggling, he rose from the corner where he'd hidden and placed a dried, white rose, sprinkled with grass, on the table by Zabini's note, and slipped quietly from their residence.  
  
~*~  
  
Hours later, Ginny awoke with a start. She opened her eyes, which were crusty from dried tears, and wiping away the residue, she looked around contemplatively, wondering faintly how she'd gotten there. Must have sleep walked, she decided. Her eyes were unconsciously drawn to her nightstand, and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline as she saw the display on her table.  
  
Flowers? Dried flowers… and grass, no less? She picked the paper beside them up, and again her eyebrows rose. So Zabini had written down a bathroom schedule. That still didn't explain the odd floral display. Slytherins… she would never understand the gits. Heck, even though she liked Malfoy, she still didn't understand him.  
  
Sighing she picked herself lazily up from her bed and began to prepare for her day at work. She truly loved working at Hogwarts. It was perhaps the greatest place to work, she thought. But who wouldn't with Albus Dumbledore as your boss? How the man seemed constantly in a cheerful mood, she never new, but it was contagious.  
  
Humming, she tugged her Hogwarts robe over her jeans and shirt, and then pulled her long hair back into a low pony tail. Some of the more elderly faculty, such as McGonagall, frowned upon the casual wear beneath her school robes, but in Potions she was a hands on teacher who didn't mind getting her hands dirty. And so she could move more freely and comfortably, she'd explained to her colleagues that was why she wore the necessary, casual garments, and Dumbledore agreed.  
  
Gathering all she would need until dinner into a nifty muggle contraption her father had introduced, called a backpack, she dashed from her room and quickly out the door of her common room, not wanting to face Blaise this early.  
  
She felt a little silly about the whole thing. It's not like he would, or even could, hurt her, she told herself as she walked down to the Great Hall. She was tough and it was only two months right? Eight weeks? Yes… that would be simple enough. Just keep to his idiotic little bathroom schedule, and he'll be out of there before you know it, she thought.   
  
Her face fell as she entered and noticed he was already at the breakfast table, in her usual seat between Malfoy and Hermione. Great way to start the week, she grumped to her mind. Just peachy. She fell into a seat between Dumbledore and Hermione, shooting a slightly mean look at the obnoxious former Head Boy. Hermione smiled at her sympathetically.  
  
"I told him it was your usual seat, Gin, but he told me you could try and make him move if you wanted it so bad."  
  
Ginny's eyes narrowed. This day was getting worse by the minute.  
  
"Ugh. What should we expect, Hermione? I mean, he is a Slytherin. God forbid if any of them should actually take responsibility for their actions or care about anyone else's feelings."   
  
She spoke loud enough for Draco and Blaise to hear her, and then smiled genially at them. Hermione coughing back laughter and Draco's eyebrows merely rose. Blaise Zabini, however, looked murderous. With shaking hands he reached for his goblet and took a sip of the tangy orange juice provided via house elves. Ginny was surprised that the glass didn't break beneath his grip, but then Dumbledore probably had unbreakable goblets. Honestly, that man thought of everything.  
  
Lifting her chin defiantly, she turned her gaze away from him and to Hermione, trying to ignore the fierce blue eyes staring a hole through her head. Grasping for something to talk about, she brought up the odd flower arrangement to Hermione. When Hermione asked what type of arrangement it was, Ginny explained that it was a weird dried white rose with grass sprinkled upon it.  
  
Hermione just about choked on her bacon and abruptly excused herself for a bit of research.   
  
"That woman is going to have that entire library read by the end of the term, assuming she hasn't read already," Malfoy stated, watching the brown haired beauty head for the library. When no one responded, he looked at his companions, Blaise and Ginny.   
  
Companions was a strong word for two people locked in a staring contest. Yes, much too strong a word. Perhaps the title 'two year olds' would suit them better.   
  
Ah, yes.  
  
Two year olds.  
  
Perfect.  
  
~*~  
  
She was lucky she was a girl, Zabini thought to himself. Damn lucky. Had it been a guy making the same comments she had so rudely made this morning, she would probably be in the Hospital Wing with Pomfrey right now. But instead she'd had the final word. Again. She was now down in the dungeons teaching those snivelling ankle-biters called students.  
  
Well, the students weren't really that bad, he mentally amended, as he paced the cramped quarters. Of course, this being Hogwarts, his reputation had gotten around like wildfire. So now, whenever he roamed the corridors, students almost literally scurried from his path, whispering 'Death Eater Zabini's on the prowl, pass it on!'  
  
Well, he could be a more effective teacher if they feared him, he reckoned, so it really didn't bother him that much. At least they stayed out of his way. Now if only Weasley would, or could rather, keep her smart sodding comments to herself, he'd be grand.  
  
Blaise's jaw clenched as he recalled the events of earlier this morning at breakfast. Did she really think that? Would he have tucked her in last night if he'd been a slimy, Slytherin git who cared about no one but himself? He sighed to himself. Why did he even try? It sure as hell didn't do any good.  
  
"Something the matter, Mr Zabini?" a warm voice questioned.  
  
His head shot up, surprised he wasn't alone and hadn't heard his companion's entrance. Then again, it was Dumbledore. He eased his rigid stance slightly, and even managed a forced smile to his face.  
  
"Nothing whatsoever, Headmaster."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously.  
  
"Somehow, I'm not convinced, Blaise. Does this have to do with your room mate, Miss Weasley? "  
  
At the mention of her name, Blaise's body tensed once more.  
  
"Ah, I thought so." Dumbledore sighed, "I thought, perhaps that you two would be able to get along, now that the war is over and life is getting back to normal."  
  
Blaise refrained from reply to Dumbledore's question. What did he think would happen? Slytherins and Gryffindors did not mix. Neither did Weasleys and Zabinis.  
  
"Well, you leave me no choice, Mr Zabini. I'm afraid I'll have to make other arrangements for you two."  
  
At this, he looked up from the floor he was studying.  
  
"I'm getting a new room then?!" Blaise asked, somewhat relieved, and yet also somewhat disappointed.  
  
"I'll tell you and Miss Weasley together. How about tonight after dinner, hmm?" When Blaise nodded in agreement, Dumbledore continued. "Very well, see you two in my office then."  
  
Blaise barely nodded his agreement before Dumbledore was out the door. Despite the fact that Dumbledore had given him a chance when he knew many wouldn't have, he still thought him to odd at times. Well, at least he hadn't unpacked everything yet.  
  
~*~  
  
Ginny shifted uncomfortably in her seat at dinner that night. Her eyes flitted between Dumbledore and Zabini for possibly the twentieth time that evening. After Dumbledore's visit, Blaise had sent an owl to her informing her of the meeting to take place in the headmaster's office tonight, but he'd left no clue as to what it was about.  
  
The bastard, she thought a tad ruthlessly, he wouldn't even speak face to face with her, he'd sent a bloody owl.   
  
Also troubling her was the research Hermione had shared with her. The dried, white roses, as it turned out, meant that 'death was preferable to loss of virtue'. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. And the grass turned out to symbolise 'submission' as Hermione had put it. Zabini was one twisted cookie, she'd give him that, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had intimidated her at all.  
  
As the evening bell sounded, a warning for all students to be heading back to their dormitories before curfew, she rose from her seat and noticed Zabini doing the same from the corner of her eyes. With all the hordes of students, she made her way to the entry way of the castle.  
  
Without warning, the doors to the castle flew open, and Fang ran in with a steak in his mouth, with Hagrid chasing after him.  
  
"Fang!" he roared, "Come back with me dinner!"  
  
The dog continued running and skidding across the marble floor, and then for some reason started heading straight towards her. She froze in terror.  
  
Give her a Dementor, she'd handle it with a swift Patronus. But a dog?! No, she definitely was not fond of dogs. Sure of certain death, 'okay' she told herself, 'maybe I'm being a little dramatic', she stood rooted to the spot, watching Fang barrel helplessly towards her. She vaguely her shouts of her name, and was expecting to be pushed to the cool marble at any moment.  
  
She never felt herself being pulled safely to the ground and covered by another body protectively.  
  
One of her eyes opened, though she never remembered closing them in the first place.   
  
"What?" she inquired softly, slowly coming to the realisation that she was curled up into the arms of a stranger. No, Blaise, she corrected herself. His eyes bore into hers and his arms gradually loosened.  
  
"You know, you really need to quit falling on me, Weasley."  
  
His arms relinquished their hold upon her completely, and he pushed himself up, offering a hand down to Ginny, who was still visibly frightened. The other professors had already cleared most of the students out of the area and shooed them off to bed, so with nothing else to do, they started towards the headmaster's office.  
  
"What happened back there?" Blaise questioned thoughtfully. "You acted as if you were scared of the big mutt."  
  
Only her large, brown eyes answered him.  
  
"You're not serious… are you?"  
  
Sniffing, she picked up her pace.  
  
"It doesn't matter, Zabini. Thank you for your help, but my fears are no concern of yours." With that she lifted her tiny little chin proudly, and they continued the rest of the way in silence.  
  
"Chocolate Frogs," they spoke at the same time.  
  
"Jinx," Ginny murmured. Blaise stopped and looked at her.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
She sighed. "Didn't you ever play that game as a child, Zabini? Someone says the same thing as you at the same time and the last person to say jinx owes the quickest jinxer a butterbeer."  
  
"So is that how you Weasley's keep entertained all summer?" he asked jokingly.   
  
Ginny was less than amused.   
  
"Look, just because you had everything handed to you as a child, doesn't give you the right to insult me and my family. We're honest, hard working people, Blaise!"  
  
He was slightly taken aback at her vehement reaction. "I... I meant no offence, Ginny. I was just joking."  
  
Ginny stopped a smile from forming.  
  
Blaise grimaced to himself. Was he actually stuttering?! He needed to cover this pesky insecurity thing and fast!  
  
"Yeah, well my advice, don't try to joke anymore."  
  
As she pushed Dumbledore's office door open, she heard a soft, "At least you had a childhood."  
  
And together, they entered his office.  
  
~*~  
  
"Miss Weasley, Mr Zabini, good to see you both. I'm afraid I'll have to be brief, as I have to attend another meeting in a few moments."  
  
At their nods, he continued.  
  
"Miss Weasley, Mr Zabini, it is important that we all get along. Especially colleagues. I mean, what kind of example to the students would you be if neither of you can stand to be in the same room as the other?"  
  
"So you're giving us our own rooms?" Blaise asked shrewdly, getting the feeling that the old codger had something else in mind.  
  
"No, Mr Zabini, you're not getting another room. Instead, you and Miss Weasley will spend two hours together every evening after dinner - getting to know one another."  
  
"WHAT?!" Blaise reacted incredulously before he could stop himself.  
  
"Professor, are you mad?!" Ginny cried, horrified at the mere suggestion.  
  
They both paused to glare at one another's comment, giving the old headmaster time to recoup.   
  
"This is exactly what I'm talking about," he responded, gesturing to the mean looks they sent one another. "The students will feel this tension and react to it. Now you two will spend time together, and learn about each other. Even Severus and Minerva got along better than you two."  
  
Before they could start their arguments up again, he shot them a look of his own, effectively silencing both of them. Dumbledore smiled genially at them both.   
  
"Good, I'm glad you agree. Now if you'll wear these, you may leave and start your two hours together right away."  
  
"What... are they, Professor?" Ginny asked warily, picking one up.  
  
"They're charmed jewellery, Miss Weasley, to make sure you and Mr Zabini stick to your meetings each night."  
  
"Oh..." Somewhat resentfully, she fastened the light, jingling bracelet on her slender wrist. Blaise picked up a studded bracelet and snapped it onto his wrist as well.   
  
"Now that the bracelets are on, I feel it safe to tell you that they won't be coming off until after Christmas break."  
  
They started to protest once more, but stopped noticing a flickering in the fireplace. Professor Dumbledore's next meeting was apparently in the fireplace.  
  
"Well, our meeting is concluded, I'll see you both bright and early in the morning. "Pleasant dreams"  
  
~*~  
  
"Bah. Pleasant dreams my ass. Damn Dumbledore and his Gryffindor tricks."  
  
"Oh do shut up, Blaise."  
  
Blaise halted from his fast-paced walk, and turned to face her, a dangerous gleam in his eye.   
  
"You know, Weasley, this is all your fault. You and your smart mouth. It's always gotten me in trouble and involved in things I'd normally not have anything to do with."  
  
"Aw… poor ickle Blaisey, do you need some cheese to go with that whine?" she retorted, just as angry as he was.  
  
"No. You know what I don't need, Weasley? You. I don't need you as my room mate, I don't need you in my mind, I don't need you in my dreams, I don't need you as a friend. Hell I don't even need you as a foe. So do yourself a favour, Weasley, stay the hell away from me and my room."  
  
With that he stormed off down the hallway to their room, leaving a stunned Ginny Weasley behind him.  
  
He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.  
  
~*~ 


	8. Harlequin & Firewhiskey

**Chapter Eight: Harlequin & Firewhiskey**

Enough was enough. This git was not going to keep treating Ginny like this. Gathering her courage, she tilted her chin and stormed into his office, slamming the door loudly behind her.

"Ah..Granger, the pleasures all yours, I'm sure." He mocked.

"Malfoy, I've hit you before, and I won't hesitate to do it again."

"Oh, you're such a tease, Granger." Malfoy feigned embarassment, leaning back in his chair, "What can I do for you?"

"It's about Blaise and Gin." Hermione replied, flopping into the chair in front of him.

"Yes, they are acting quite immature, aren't they?"

"They?" she asked, raising a brow, " Ginny responds only to the actions of that git friend of yours."

"And she does nothing to provoke him?"

"I..She..Uh.." She stammered, Ginny did have a tendency to blow things out of proportion-A Weasely family trait. "Well, I just thought that because she considers you- for whatever reason- a friend, you might say something to Blaise."

"And what should I say Granger? Tell me, do you ever wonder why Ginny responds the way she does to him? With most people, she lets things go. Why does every little thing Blaise say get under her skin? And vice versa?" He came out of the chair and around the desk, sliding onto the corner of it. "It's because they have it, Granger."

"It?" She gulped.

"Yes, it, chemistry, sparks, whatever the hell you want to call it. They've got it, and they won't admit it. It's like a damn Harlequin book in the making."

That was the first moment she truly looked at Draco Malfoy. He was still the same arrogant, fool from school. What scared her was she was starting to like it. "You know..maybe you were qualified for the DADA position after all, Draco." She stood, taking a few steps back to maintain a polite, decent distance, and stretched out her hand, "Friends?"

He stared at her hand, silver eyes taking in her hand, and then trailing up her arm to her eyes, soft, melt-in-your mouth chocolate brown eyes. His own hand shot out, and grabbed hers, using it to pull her to his body.

"We're more than that and you know it."

With that he brought her lips to his, bruising them with his need. He slid his other arm down her side, and up under the hem of her shirt, rubbing the skin there lightly. She shivered, and leaned closer still, one leg curling around his, as her lips parted. He smiled against her lips and chuckled.

"They're not the only romance book in the making are they, Granger?"

Her eyes, which had somehow closed during the moment, flew open. Arrogant jerk. She hauled off and slapped him.

He blinked. And Hermione noticed a tick in his jaw which was set firmly.

"What in the hell was that for?"

"For..for..kissing me you idiot."

"Oh, please, quit living in the past Granger, Weasely's not coming back, you can't let that ruin your life."

She clenched her fists, and thought she saw a spark of fear in his eyes. Good.

"What, so I should let you ruin my life instead? Think again, Malfoy. This was a bad idea. You haven't changed a bit. Do us all a favor and take a long walk off a short pier."

With that, she marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

The first time Blaise had gotten smashed was after his mother's funeral. The second was, oddly enough, after becoming Head Boy, the third was at the end of that year, before things with the war picked up. And over the time he'd realized that the alcohol wasn't what he craved. The pain afterwords, the hangover, was. It was a way of self-punishment, it made him realize he wasn't dead, or invulnerable.

Tonight was his first visit back to the Hogshead Tavern in nearly five years. It was quiet, since it was late. That was the way he liked it, better to make a fool out of himself in front of as few people as possible. The bar door burst open and he barely looked up from his firewhiskey until Hermione Granger flopped down beside him in a huff.

"Fancy meeting you here, Granger."

"Shut up Zabini."

Madam Rosmerta came up to take her order, "What'll it be, dear?" She eyed the swollen, red-eyed Hermione, " A Butterbeer?"

"Bah." Hermione snarled, "Butterbeer's for kids, I'll show him living in the past, I'll have a firewhiskey."

Rosmerta started to protest, but Blaise interrupted,"Don't worry about it, I'll get her home safely." She nodded and went off to fill the order.

With drink in hand, Hermione regarded Blaise.

"Let's get shitfaced, shall we?" They klinked their drinks ceremoniously, and both downed their drinks in a gulp.

"Morning Hermione."

"Morning Gin."

Hermione yawned as she made her way through to Ginny's small kitchenette. Coffee. She needed coffee. Now.Ginny walked back by Hermione, stopping.

"Uh, Hermione. I love you..But why in the hell are you in my room?"

Hermione stopped, coffee forgotten, as the events of the previous night returned to her. No. No. No freaking No. She had gotten drunk, and started talking to Zabini, and then...she looked down at her left hand,

"Bloody hell."

"Hermione? Are you ok?" Ginny stepped forward apprehensively.

"Gin...I'm married."

"What? To who!"

"Morning lovelies." Blaise said, standing in the doorway, stretching.

"YOU!" Screeched Hermione, she ran up and slapped him. Ginny's eyes widened and then quickly narrowed in anger. Taking a leaf from Hermione's book, she marched up to Blaise and slapped him again.

Blaise blinked. What in the hell was wrong with these people? As the memories from last night came back to him, his eyes widened, and he turned towards Hermione.

"Granger..Did we really..?"

"Yes, we did."

"Oh. Shit."


	9. Hyperventilating Is A No No

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait! Thank you guys for all your kind reviews. You All ROCK!

**Chapter Nine: Hyperventilating Is A No-No**

"Must not hyperventilate. Must not hyperventilate."

"Must Kill Blaise."

"Must Un-Imperious Hermione."

"But Must Not Hyperventilate."

Those two, married. There had to be some kind of rational reasoning behind it. Hermione hadn't dated in the longest time. Why would she suddenly get married. No, there must be an explanation. What she really needed, was an explanation for the jealousy surging through her. After slapping Blaise, she'd fled before she tackled Hermione. Gods. What an interesting year it had been. First Malfoy shows up, all the bad out of him, that was a plus. Then Blaise shows up, troublesome as ever, and now..Hell. What she needed was some time on the pitch.  
--  
There's just something about flying that frees your mind. Ginny would take flying over muggle drugs, any day of the week. She zipped from one end to another, careful to dodge bludgers. She'd been in such a rush to fly, that after her final class for the day she'd interrupted the Hufflepuff's quidditch practice. After scaring the poor dears off the pitch, she'd blasted the quaffle into bits, and was working on the bludgers at the moment. If they would stay still long enough, anyway.

"YOU STUPID PIECE OF CRAP BLUDG-AGHHHH!" She cried as the bludgers wooshed back and forth, and then suddenly decided to head straight for her.

Executing a swift escape from the blasted balls, and diving behind the Hufflepuff stands.

"I TAKE IT BACK! STAY AWAY"

"Problem there, Weasley?" A calm voice shouted up to her. She squinted down.

"Harry?"

Forgetting about the bludgers completely, she aimed her broom straight towards Harry. Before she could even reach the ground she leapt from the broom and into his arms.

"Hello to you to, Gin." He grinned, hugging her back. She pulled back, eyes narrowed.

"Harry Effing Potter. How dare you not keep in touch. Surely letter writing was a required course in your auror training"

"Of course, but you know me, I failed it because of my penmanship or some rot like that." He replied, winking at her.

"Hmph. Don't patronize me Potter"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Weasley"

Ever since Ron's death, Ginny had taken to messing with Harry as Ron would have, and of course enriching it with a little Ginny charm here and there. Harry, likewise, had taken to bothering and pestering Ginny as her brother had. Compared to Ron they were both sorry replacements, but it helped them cope, anyway.

"So, what's got you so riled up, Ginny Dear"

"Bah. I'm not riled up, it's just a nice day for flying"

"Liar. I haven't seen you fly like this since our 7th year, after you broke up with that bloke, Larry or something"

"Ick. He was such a scuzz ball"

"I agree. Now back to the subject, you brat"

Ginny rolled her eyes, and started making some daisy chains.

"Well, I don't know if you heard, but I've got a new roommate"

"Really? Now who might that be"

"Blaise Zabini, ring any bells, Harry"

Harry sprung up from the ground he'd been lying on. Was he the one they were after? He was rooming with Ginny!

"What in the bleating Hell is he doing here, and why would Dumbledore allow him to stay with you"

"Harry. Breathe. In. Out. Don't give me that look"

"Explain Ginny"

"I didn't have any choice, Harry. Apparently Zabini will be teaching here in the Winter term, but he needs a place to stay until then, and for whatever reason, it's with me. Anyway, so now to add to these problems, he's gone and"

"Gone what, Ginny"

"Gone and been an ass, that's what Harry"

He studied her carefully. She was pointedly ignoring his questioning gaze and working on her daisy crown. Giving up he sighed.  
"Well, you know there's always room for you in Hogsmeade if you'd like to commute, you could even use the secret passage"

"No thanks, Harry. It's only a few more weeks"

"Yes, thank you, Potter, but as Dumbledore has these stupid bracelets on us, we have to function together wether we like it or not." Blaise spat as he joined their interlude on the pitch. "And I assure you," He added, " I don't like it"

Looking at each other, Harry and Blaise held each others gaze for a moment longer than necessary, before looking away, each wondering why the hell the other was there.

"Zabini." Harry nodded stiffly in his direction.

"Jerk." Ginny snarled, mimicking Harry's nod. She gathered her daisy crown, and other various daisy jewelry, and stood. "Well, Harry, I suppose you need to excuse us now, we've got to spend two hours, trying not to kill each other"

Harry raised a brow. Just what was Dumbledore playing at?

"And I think I'd rather watch Wrestlemania, it's a little more safe and a lot less melodramatic." He replied, earning a glare from both parties. Leaning in to Ginny, he pecked her cheek lightly, "Well I'll see you at Breakfast tomorrow morning, Gin"

"See ya around, Zabini." He added, knocking into Blaise slightly as he left.

Clenching his fists, and counting backwards from 100 in Mermish, he restrained his impulse to pound the nancy boy into the ground. Ruddy boy who lived. More like the Self Righteous Prat From Hell. Turning back to Ginny, he found, unsurprisingly, she was no longer there. He swore that freaking girl could have been in a disappearing act.

"I'm up here, idiot." She said, staring down at him from the Hufflepuff quidditch stand.

Maybe not.

"I knew that." He murmured, as he climbed the stairs and into the seating area.

"How'd you find me, Zabini?" She questioned, currently in the process of transfiguring her daisy crown to sparkle, talk about au natural bling.

"Well, you see, I was down there, and you said 'I'm up here', And then-" He said, imitating her in a high voice.

"No. How'd you know to come to the quidditch pitch at all?"   
"Oh." He shrugged. " Well, you always used to come to the pitch to fly out your tensions. So I figured you'd be here"

Her eyes snapped up to his. "How'd you know that"

"Well, you did it when we were in school. I mean I think the best I've ever seen you fly was after you broke up with that skeaze Larry Bolton."  
Her mind was racing, he kept tabs on her? Even after their, for lack of a better word, falling out?

"Though if you ask me there are better ways to work out your tensions." He purred.

"Like marrying my best friend"

All humour drained from his eyes. Replaced by cold fury, they engaged in yet another staring contest. Though, unlike the previous trivial ones, Ginny's narrowed brown eyes finally got to him. Giving up, he looked away as he spoke, refusing to look at her.

"Yes, like getting smashed because I can't sleep at night because I think of how I've screwed my life up so much and how no one wants anything to do with me. So yes I like to get smashed sometimes. And consequently, Weasley, when your smashed you have little control over your actions, and sometimes you do stupid things. Like marrying your best friend, for example"

She stared at him, surprised at his honesty and some of her anger diffused. But he still wasn't off the hook, not by a long shot.

"That doesn't excuse it"

"No, it doesn't"

He turned back to her, his gaze even more penetrating, "But that doesn't mean I don't regret it, either, Ginny"

At that remark, the fight went out of her. He was essentially right, everyone screwed up sometimes. And after all, she really shouldn't care that much. Chewing on her bottom lip, she fiddled with the now very gaudy daisy crown. He seemed to sense her temper subside, and took the daisy crown from her hands gently.

"What have you done to this, Weasley? You always were good with charm work"

Going along with his attempt to lighten the mood, she explained the sparkling charm she'd placed upon the daisys.

"If you're really that interested in my crown, Blaise, you can have it." She joked, though she was actually surprised when he put it on his head, and posed.

"How do I look?"

"Definitely ready for your close-up, Mr. Zabini." She laughed. "Since when did you get a sense of humour?"

"Since I fell in love with your brother's joke shop. They really are quite brilliant, you know"

"Oh I agree, now if only they could harness that to do good, and not evil."

"How'd you get interested in their shop?"

"Well, despite popular misconceptions, I do enjoy this thing called fun," Ginny feigned a gasp, and he gave her a half-hearted glare," And even more than that I enjoyed screwing with Malfoy by using your brother's products."

"Oh? Do tell." With Ginny's undivided attention, Blaise spent the next two hours discussing various pranks he'd pulled on Malfoy.  
--  
"YES!" Hermione shouted as she emerged from the Ministry of Magic with Blaise.

It'd taken a week, but they'd finally got an audience with the Ministry of Personal Affairs, and after a tense hour discussion, the counsel had agreed to annul the sham of a marriage.

"Geez, Granger, you do wonders for my ego." Blaise muttered, following her out. He blinked to adjust to the sun, on the inside he was dancing, though. How could he not be happy? At least this was one screw up that had been fixed. Now what? He wondered. There was nothing for him to do at Hogwarts until his and Ginny's session this evening.

"Blaise"

He turned to his right, "You still there?" He asked Hermione.

"Yes, you jerk, now come buy me a drink and let's celebrate"

"As long as it's not Firewhiskey, I'll buy you any drink you want, Granger"

She'd honestly considered going off on her own, but he just looked so..lonely. So, hooking her arm around his, she started half skipping, half dragging him down Diagon Alley. She would cheer him up yet. He glared down at her with what he hoped was a menacing face.

"I don't skip, Granger."

"And you don't marry mudbloods either, Blaise. And please, now that we've been married and annulled, it's Hermione"

Grumbling about snarky Gryffindors, he obliged and followed as she skipped to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Go find us a seat, I'll get the Butterbeers." She said.

Once seated, he looked around. It'd been a long time since he'd been here. The summer before his last year at Hogwarts, to be exact. His watched Hermione as she waited on their drinks, talking with Tom. She really wasn't all that bad. Few would have taken a mistaken marriage as well as she did. He'd have to be on the look for her now, he decided, besides maybe he could talk with her about things. And someone needed to make sure she didn't get into trouble, that know-it-alls like her usually got into. Great. Now things were getting interesting, he was making friends with Hermione Granger. Who was next, Harry Potter? Nah, there wasn't enough firewhiskey in the world to make him think twice about that git.

A few hours, and several butterbeers later, they emerged from the Leaky Cauldron considerably less depressed about their lives, and skipping arm in arm with one another.

"I thought you didn't skip, Blaise."

"I'm not skipping, Hermione. I'm walking with pizazz."

Chuckling, they continued to their apparation point making jokes with one another. After a few mishaps, they finally managed to apparate to Hogsmeade.

"Well, guess we'll be parting ways here, Zabini, I'm meeting Harry at Three O'Clock."

"Bah. Good Riddance, to you then." He sneered, wrinkling his nose. "Be sure to decontaminate yourself afterwards."

Rolling her eyes, she watched as he started towards the castle. She had to, it was just to hard to resist.

"Blaise, a tip on Ginny," She called, her grin widening as he stopped dead in his tracks, "Don't let her bottle things up"

Well, if a know-it-all Gryff couldn't resist, then he sure as hell couldn't. He was doomed from the start.

"Thank you Dr.Phil," He smirked, feeling her surprise even with his back turned,"A tip for Malfoy, though, don't let him skate on stuff, make him explain himself. Oh, and his favourite colour is Pink, and he enjoys long walks on the beach."

"Ass."

"Know-It-All."

Oh yes, this was the start of a beautifully dysfunctional friendship.

--

And things were definitely getting interesting.

**A/N: Coming Soon:** Harry talks with Dumbledore, runs into Malfoy, and more strange occurences.


	10. Let Go My Eggo!

Miss. Independent

By: Arabella

**Chapter Ten: Let Go My Eggo**

"What're you playing at, Dumbledore?" Harry demanded.

"Harry, I highly doubt Mr. Zabini's the one you're looking for"

"How're you so sure?" He blurted out, unable to control his worry as he paced the Headmaster's office, "I mean, you've already allowed Malfoy in, but now Zabini? Why in the hell do you think the Ministry seized his home!"

"Harry, even if I have allowed the wrong type in, it's better for them to be here and under our watch, rather than out terrorizing the innocent, don't you agree"

"Oh yes, it makes perfect sense to let the deatheater terrify the school, rather than anyone else. What do you think Molly Weasley would say if she knew?" He wasn't quite sure, but Harry thought that he saw Dumbledore pale slightly.

"Now Harry, there's no need to inform Molly about this..." He started.

"Hermione and Ginny in danger isn't something she should know, Headmaster?"

"Well.."

Harry finally stopped pacing and sank wearily into a comfortable chair, waving off the rest of Dumbledore's sentence. "With all due respect, sir. Save it. She already knows they're in danger, in case you've forgotten the family clock."

Dumbledore really was starting to dislike that clock. "So she does. Does she know about the missing deatheater?"

"No. But, that didn't stop her from flooing me at 3 in the bloody morning." Harry recalled bitterly.

_-Flashback-_

"HARRY POTTER, You get out of that bed this INSTANT!"

Harry blinked. And then he blinked again. Was Molly Weasley brandishing a soapy pot at him? He must be hallucinating.

"Well? What are you waiting for! UP. UP!"

Unfortunately for Harry, he wasn't hallucinating.

He sat up, pulling the covers about him, "What is it Mrs.Weasley?"

"Don't you act all innocent, Harry, you're an auror now, you know the score, so tell me what you know!"

"Mrs. Weasley, calm down, what's going on!" Now a bit more aware, he grabbed his glasses.

"This is what's going on, Harry." She gestured over her shoulder at the family clock. Harry squinted at it, and sure enough, Ginny's arrow was pointed towards 'Mortal Peril.'

"Damn." He muttered.

_-End Flashback-_

"How long did it take to calm, Molly?"

"A good hour, but only because I slipped some brandy in her tea. I probably should be expecting a howler for that."

"I apologize, Harry, but I'm not changing my mind about any of the new teachers."

"Well, that's your prerogative, but mine is safety, so Kingsley's asked for me to stay here for extra protection."

"Of course. I believe I know just where to put you."

Harry wasn't quite sure he liked the grin on Dumbledore's face.

--

Insanity.

This is exactly where being nice gets you. He'd been decent to the red, mop-headed Weasel, and it had gotten Blaise pissed at him. He'd been fairly nice (for him, anyway) to Granger, and she'd gone off and married that prat. But noo..."Be Nice" He mimicked his boss, "Earn trust..blah." If that stupid Weasley runt would bother listening to anyone and not be so damn stubborn, life would be so much easier. But no, she just has to go and make herself a constant target, in turn making the situation harder for him. As for bushy-haired & buck-toothed, he could care less. That little slap of hers had taught him right quick. He didn't know what had possessed him to try his luck with her in the first place. All he knew was that it was a shame to waste a life pining after something that was unattainable. Whether it was a dead fiancée, or a bastard father's love.

Forgetting all that, he just hated being nice. Being bad was much more fun. Though this good thing did have it's advantages. No one ever questioned him, at least, not with Blaise around. They all thought he was the evil one, which left him the plenty of room to operate in. If only he could figure out just what was going on. Draco's neck prickled, he noticed a dark haired blur in the reflection of the window.

"Potter, are you going to stare at my butt all night, or are you going to come in?"

Harry blanched at the thought, and stepped into his new quarters.

"How'd you know?"

"The stench." He smirked, at least he could depend on Potter for a punching bag.

Harry grumbled something before throwing a duffle bag onto the floor. Malfoy raised a brow,

"Just what in the hell do you think you're doing there, Potter?"

"Moving in. Where's the extra room?"

"Dumbledore?"

"Yes."

Maybe they didn't trust him as much as he thought.

"Third door on the left. Told you he was a crazy old coot."

"Sod off."

Yep, Absolute Insanity.

--

"Ahh.." Ginny sighed contentedly. She squeezed her eyes shut and stretched languidly. Saturday had many nice attributes, a day to sleep in, Hogsmeade visits, meatball day in the great hall, and better yet, a day for quidditch! Forcing her eyes to open, she pushed the covers back.

"Wow Weasley, nice PJs." Her eyes flicked sharply to the end of her bed where Blaise was slumped in her favorite easy chair.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" She demanded, snatching her covers up around her.

"Bloody hell Weasley, I'm not a damn rapist." He groused. "I was bored."

"Oh." What else could she say..? She stared mutely at him.

"I'm making breakfast if you want to join me." He muttered, closing the door quietly behind him.

As soon as the door clicked she fell back into her bed, throwing the covers over her head to hide her blushing cheeks.

"That so could have gone better."

--

That girl would be the death of him. Just who in the bleeping hell wore flannel pajamas with little sheep on them? He'd been hoping she was wearing something skimpy at least. But no. Damn sheep. Ah, but watching her sleep was worth the sheep. The way she'd tossed, grunted in her sleep was downright cute. He'd been about to join her, screw the consequences but then the little twit had woken up and stared at him so strangely he'd felt like an old pervert.

"Ow!" He yelped as he grabbed the hot eggos from the toaster.

"Hot, hot, hot.." he mumbled, hurrying to drop them ontoone of theplates.

He swirled about at a poorly muffled giggle. The damn eggos weren't the only hot ones. Weasley should dress in plainclothes much more often he decided, taking the tight jeans in appreciatively.

"Eggos for breakfast, Zabini?" She quipped, sliding into a seat at the small table.

"The best muggle invention ever, my dear." He took the seat across from her, passing her a plate of eggos and syrup.

"A muggle invention?" She leant over the table and placed the backside of her hand on his forehead, "You feeling alright, Blaise?"

"Well," He sniffed indignantly, "If you don't want them..."

"No!" She squeaked, slapping his hand away from her plate. She studied the eggo cautiously, before breaking off a small piece and eating it. Her eyes lit up, "It's delicious!"

"It's even better when you have syrup with it, you nut. Oh, and you're supposed to eat it with a fork, Weasley."

"Meh." She grumbled, breaking off another piece and dipping it into the darkish liquid on one side of the plate. "Amazing."

"How do you not know about eggos, Weasley? Isn't your father nuts for muggle inventions?"

Her eyes narrowed as she continued to devour the eggos.

"One, It's Ginny, Blaise.

Two,my father isn't nuts, but if he was; only I could say so.

And three,my father's only interested in muggle appliances and machinery."

She punctuated this by scooping up the last bit of syrup on her plate with her little finger, and brought it to her lips. She stopped when she realized Blaise hadn't responded. He was staring at her, eyes suddenly piercing.

"Please, don't stop for me, Ginny."

She ducked her head shyly, licking the syrup from her finger, before standing to clear her mess.

"So, how can you be bored on such a beautiful day, Zabini?"

She flitted to and from the table to the sink, cleaning her dish and replacing items in their proper place. He watched her. She was trouble, this one. She was babbling on about the quidditch game and the Hogsmeade visit today. She reached for his still full plate, and he took her wrist lightly. "One, It's Blaise, Ginny. "

"Two, I'm not finished with my breakfast."

They locked eyes. Hers bright ones were swirling with unadmitted emotion, while his dark ones were filled with desire. She was saying something else, but he didn't quite hear any of it. Instead, he tugged her into his lap.

"And three, quit babbling." He murmured, sliding his hand through her hair and drawing her face down to his.

"I don't babble, you-" she started.

"Shut up." he finished, capturing her lips roughly, he flicked his tongue across them, and then pulled back with a groan, "Damn Weasley, you taste like syrup." She stared at him, "Whose babbling now?" With that, she tread her fingers through his hair and jerked their mouths back together. She'd definitely gotten better at this, he thought as she softly nipped at his lips and introduced her tongue to his mouth. The thought jarred him. He slowly pulled back from her. She looked at him, at first annoyed, but then ashamed. Exactly what he'd been afraid of; he wouldn't be the one who made her do something she regretted. She lifted herself out of his lap quickly and sat back down across from him.

"Sorry about that Weas-Ginny." He started.

"You weren't the only one kissing, Blaise." He looked up at her. She was fumbling with her hands, and looking at the table. He stilled her hands with his, causing her to return his look.

"So where are we at, Ginny?"

"What do you mean?" She asked softly, fearing where he was heading with this question.

"Do we hate each other? Are we...dating? Or are we just friends?"

"It's better for us to be just friends, Blaise." She said, turning her gaze from his again.

His lips twitched with anger, but he pushed it back. He asked, and he shouldn't have asked if didn't want a truthful answer.

"I understand."

She seemed surprised by this, and he couldn't help but quip,

"Friends with benefits, maybe?"

"Oh hush!" She squealed tossing the salt shaker at him.

--

"Watch out for the bludger!" Ginny shouted.

The Gryffindor quidditch team this year was downright dismal. Slytherin was trouncing them quite well, and Blaise, the friend he was, she thought sarcastically, was not going to let her forget it.

After the breakfast incident, Ginny had excused herself to get ready for the quidditch match. She'd intended to go on her own, and meet Hermione, Harry, and Draco there, but Blaise had looked so pathetic laid out in their shared common area that she'd asked him to accompany her. Apparently, he'd never followed much quidditch, and didn't care for flying one bit. Some facts she meant to change about him.

Blaise watched Ginny and the others amused that they got so caught up in the game. Not that he was complaining, whenever those poncy Gryffs managed to score, she would hug him excitedly. He felt someone's eyes on him and looked down past Ginny, also seated with them on the front row, and on Ginny's other side was Harry effing Potter.

The boy who unfortunately for Blaise lived was currently staring lasers into his head. If Ginny hadn't specifically asked him to play nice with her friends, he'd have walloped the day lights out of him already. If nothing else, but for putting his arm around Ginny.

--

Miracles never ceased, and Gryffindor pulled off another score at the goals. Ginny shot to her feet, cheering happily. She turned to Blaise to throw her arms around him, but a hand shot out from no where, giving her a firm enough push to send her over the edge of the box they were seated in. "Ginny!" Blaise shouted, he whipped his wand out and pointed it towards her, muttering a form of the leviosa spell. Ginny then floated to the pitch, landing with a little bump, but over all, she was just fine. The rest of the box breathed a sigh of relief, but Blaise was dashing down the stairs two at a time. And he realized as he burst onto the pitch, that he wasn't alone.

"Ginny!" Harry yelled, running to her side.

She stared at him blankly. "Harry..what happened?"

Harry's eyes grew dark with rage, and he turned to glare at Blaise. "You pushed her, didn't you!"

Of all the things Potter could have said, that was the worst. Before he could stop himself, his fist was connecting with Harry's cheek in a solid punch. "You Fucking Prat. I would never"

"Blaise."

Blaise stopped and looked at Ginny, she was swaying back and forth dangerously. It was then that both he and Harry (Who was on the ground) noticed that whoever had pushed her, had punctured her skin and she was bleeding quite profusely.

"Ginny!" Harry started, steadying her. "That looks like a snake bite. You need to get to the hospital wing!" He started to scoop her up, but found himself on the ground once more.

"Back the fuck off, Potter." Blaise snapped, eyes blazing with a fury Harry had never seen before. He started to get up, but soon found his hand being crushed into the ground by someone else. He looked up, Malfoy smiled at him, and continued to grind his shoe into Potter's hand. Before he could say or try anything else, Zabini was gone, running towards the school.

--

Three hours and a very grumpy Madame Pomfrey later, Blaise was seated next to Ginny's bed. He hadn't pushed her. But who had? She didn't think that he pushed her, did she? Damn that Potter and his theories.

Dumbledore was currentlyon his good side for letting Blaise, not Harry stay by Ginny's side. He'd gave the boy who lived some inane excuse about it was because they lived together. The prat had actually thrown a tizzy.

Blaise sighed, raking his hands over his face wearily. Ginny had been lucky. They had managed to get the poison out of her in time, though she would probably be down a few days, and maybe have a bit of a limp from where the poison had entered her left leg. He ran his fingers down her face, tracing her profile. His eyebrows shot to the ceiling when her hand came up to hold his hand to her cheek.

"Thank you, Blaise." She said softly, before drifting back into a dreamless sleep.

--

"Still pitching a bitch fit, Potter?" Malfoy smirked, watching Harry pace outside the Hogwarts Infirmary.

Harry scowled at him.

"Shut up."

After a another half hour of pacing, Potter threw up his hands, and turned on Draco.

"Why did you stop me, Malfoy?"

"Why, whatever do you mean, Harold?" Draco questioned innocently.

Harry actually growled and shoved Draco into the wall.

"You know what I mean. You don't want them together. Don't act like you do."

Draco's eyes narrowed a fraction and cooled considerably.

"Don't proceed to tell me what I know, Potter." He pushed Harry away from him and straightened his robes.

"I may not have wanted them together then, but now, I'm not going to interfere"

"You sure as hell interfered back in our seventh year!" Harry accused.

"WE, interfered with them, you git!"He spat.

Harry looked at him sharply, before dropping his eyes.

"That's what I thought." Malfoy paced slowly around him in a circle. "It's funny how things change isn't it, Potter? Funny how roles reverse, hmm?"

Harry fixed a glare on Malfoy so potent that he actually stopped his pacing.

"You ever stop me from helping her again, and I'll kill you"

And Malfoy believed him.

--

End Chapter Ten.

--

**Coming Soon: **Blaise and Hermione turn up some interesting information while looking for the person(s) responsible for what happened to Ginny. Is there really a deatheater at Hogwarts?

--


End file.
